


Don't Worry Baby (It's enough to make you go crazy)

by ChrisLeon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protests, University of California Berkeley, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2019-08-06 13:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16388777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisLeon/pseuds/ChrisLeon
Summary: Billy has been back in the states for a few months and it hasn't been easy, dealing with PTSD, injuries, protesters, and trying to find his place back in civilian life.Steve's been in California for a couple of years now, he has a job he doesn't hate, and frequently attends anti-war protests.When the two meet by chance, they're forced to deal with their own issues and the social-political issues that threaten to tear the country-and them-apart.(Inspired by harringrove000 on tumblr's AU post)(Title from Lana Del Rey's song 'Love')





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time writing anything in while and first time ever writing for this fandom/pairing, so please excuse me if it's not great. 
> 
> General notes for this AU:  
> -Billy never moved to Hawkins, he finished high school in California and enlisted straight after  
> -This technically takes place in the Spring of 1968, but the specifics don't really matter

His apartment looked better at night than it does during the day. That’s all Billy Hargrove could think as he lay, unmoving on his bed. In the low light, it was harder to see the cracks in the plaster and the water stains where old pipes had burst and no one had ever bothered to repaint.

 

It wasn’t the nicest place, but it was the best he could afford, given his circumstances. He’d been back in the states for a little over two months and readjusting had been difficult, to say the least. It’s why he was currently staring at the dark interior of his apartment instead of sleeping.

 

Somewhere in the distance, a car horn honked disturbing the silence. Billy flinched at the sudden noise, his whole body bracing for an attack. His heart rate and breathing picked up, even as the more rational part of his mind reminded him that there was no threat. He was back stateside and no one was trying to kill him.

 

He let out a groan and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. The little light coming in from the window showed the hands on his clock approaching three A.M. Resigning himself to another sleepless night, he threw back the covers and wandered out of his bedroom into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

 

The refrigerator hummed noisily in the corner as he filled a glass from the sink. He leaned against the counter, feeling the deep exhaustion settle in his bones. He shifted slightly, taking weight off his left leg and slowly sipped at his glass.

 

His head ached from how tired how tired he was, but he knew going back to bed wouldn’t help. Sleep had been hard to come by since he’d returned to the states and when it did come, it was nightmares of gunfire and people dying that usually ended with him waking suddenly, gasping for breath and reaching for his leg.

 

He left the glass on the counter and shuffled into his small living room. He glanced momentarily at the couch, but he knew it wouldn’t be any different than his bed.

 

It was funny, in an awful sort of way. For months, he’d dreamed of being able to sleep in a real bed again. He’d spent so much time in the jungle, constantly afraid of ambush, sleeping for a few hours at most, on the ground, in whatever shelter he and the rest of his squad could find. And now here he was, safe and sound, with a bed all his own and he couldn’t sleep. It was too soft, too comfortable; which was absurd. But here he was.

 

With one hand on the wall for support, he slowly lowered himself down to the floor. He curled up tight with his back pressed against the wall.

 

 _This is what I am now, I guess_ , he thought. _Sleeping on the damn floor, still afraid of a war a thousand miles away_ . He thought back to the person he’d been in high school: resident bad boy, attractive, athletic, cocky. _The biggest fish in a small pond_ , he thought now.

 

Nothing he’d done in high school mattered anymore. His grades had been good, but he hadn’t had the money to go to college and didn’t like the idea of four more years of school, anyway. The army had seemed like the obvious choice. It was no secret they needed men, there was a chance he’d be drafted anyway, and back then it had just seemed like a guaranteed job, a way to finally get out of his house and finally get some respect.

 

He’d been right about the first two, at least. To no one’s surprise, the army had accepted him and soon after he’d graduated he was off to basic and he was deployed not too long after.

 

Respect, however, had been a different story. Sure, his dad had finally been proud of him when he’d said he wanted to enlist. But that was starting to seem less and less important the more he heard people refer to him and the others who came back from Vietnam as murderers and baby killers.

 

He felt sick just thinking about it. He’d done a lot in Vietnam that he wasn’t proud of, things that still haunted his dreams and sometimes his waking moments, too. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected his return to be like. He’d heard stories of soldiers returning from Germany and Japan being greeted by cheering crowds and hailed as heroes. His eighteen year-old self was dumb and selfish enough to expect praise and adoration for joining the army. At twenty-three, with his career cut short and only three good limbs left, he would have settled for anything that wasn’t protesters screaming at him, reminding him of every terrible thing he’d had to do and how much they blamed him for it.

 

He curled tighter in on himself in his spot on the floor. He felt better here. Sleeping on the ground was familiar and the wall at his back gave him a feeling of security. No one could sneak up on him.

 

He drifted for a few fitful hours, never truly falling asleep. He maintained some awareness of his surroundings while his mind tried its hardest to convince he was still in a warzone, dangerous shapes lurking just out sight and the constant threat making it impossible to get any real rest.

 

* * *

 

He woke the next morning just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. The few hours he’d gotten could barely count as sleep and he felt even more exhausted than he had the night before.

 

He used his arms to push himself upright, grimacing at the stiffness in his whole body as it was forced to move. Getting to his feet was even harder, especially when his left leg threatened to give out when he put too much weight on it.

 

He limped back to his bedroom picked his jumpsuit up off the chair where he’d left it the day before after returning from work. He usually didn’t mind working at the garage; the work itself wasn’t physically demanding and left on his own with a car to fix was the most peaceful he ever was nowadays.

 

The problem was the people. Customers and coworkers who didn’t understand why he flinched so much at loud noises and sudden movements or why he’d been found more than once his back to a wall, head in his hands trying to control his breathing and remind himself that the threats were an ocean away.

 

And maybe even worse than those who didn’t understand were those who did. The ones who knew what he’d done to end up like this. _Murderer_ . _Baby killer_.

 

His jumpsuit was covered in grease and dirt, as were most of the T-shirts and tank tops he wore underneath it. He didn’t wash his clothes as often as he should, he knew. He didn’t shower or eat as often as he should either. He knew this, but it was so hard to bring himself to do even the simplest things sometimes.

 

 _No point worrying about it_ , he thought, _no time to wash it now_.

 

Bracing himself for another day outside the isolating walls of his apartment, he headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee before he’d have to leave.

 

* * *

 

He made it up through lunch time without incident, he was actually having an okay day, until his idiot coworker knocked a tool box over, making a ruckus as all the metal tools hit the concrete floor of the garage. Billy flinched at the sound and his coworker’s loud swearing.

 

He could feel is heart rate spike and his breathing start to pick up. Suddenly, everything around him seemed too loud, too close. Metal scraping against concrete as the tools were picked up, people’s voices in the background, and engine rumbling somewhere outside; it all became too much.

 

Feeling the panic start to rise, he shot up from where he’d been crouched next to the car he was working on, ignoring the protests from his leg. He shoved his way out of the garage trying to get out before anyone noticed his heavy breathing.

 

He ignored the confused calls of his name from behind and continued outside. He paused briefly at the edge of the parking lot, braced against the fence as he tried to get his breathing back under control. He took a few unsteady breaths, then continued down the sidewalk, feeling like he’d shake out of his skin if he tried to stand still.

 

As he walked he could feel his heart rate slowly returning to normal along with his breathing. His hand were still shaking and he suddenly became aware of the fact that he was crying.

 

He stopped at the corner  and leaned against a telephone pole. His leg was aching and he was already dreading the walk back to garage almost as much as he was dreading having to face his coworkers after such an exit.

 

He leaned his head back against the pole, closing his eyes to wipe the tears off his face.

 

“Hey man, are you okay?”

 

His eyes snapped open, terrified that he’d let his guard down, let someone sneak up on him; a stupid mistake like that could get him killed. What was he thinking?

 

He quickly reoriented himself and was suddenly faced with the prettiest pair of brown eyes he’d ever seen.

  
_Oh_ , he thought, aware that he was still shaking and crying on a very public street corner, _oh no_.


	2. Chapter 2

It was days like this when Steve couldn’t help but wonder how his life could have turned out differently. He didn’t regret any of the choices that led him here, but twenty-four with no college degree and still waiting tables for a living was never how he’d pictured his future. Today had been especially slow, even the lunch rush having less people than usual, and was left with too much time to think. 

 

Growing up, it’d always been assumed that he’d go to college, graduate and then work for father. Of course, those plans had changed after he’d struggled his way through high school and then decided college wasn’t for him. 

 

He’d hung around Hawkins for another year after graduating, unsure of where to go or what he wanted to do. When Nancy had announced she was going to school in Berkeley, California and that Jonathan was coming with her, Steve had decided to tag along. 

 

Was it weird, following his ex-girlfriend and the guy she’d left him for across the country? A little bit. But after the initial resentment and awkwardness had gone away, the three of them had managed to be friends and it wasn’t like Steve had anywhere else to go. And besides, Nancy and Jonathan had been happy to have him come. 

 

And now here they all were. Nancy had just graduated and she and Jonathan were both working and shared a place not far from campus. Steve had bounced around between various part time jobs and he’d been at his current one, waiting tables at a little hole in the wall restaurant, for almost a year. He didn’t mind it; the pay was decent, especially with tips, the hours were flexible, and he liked most of his coworkers. He couldn’t see himself staying there forever, though, and he was still no closer to an actual career than he had been when he’d graduated high school.

 

The lunch rush had just about finished and the place was emptying out. Seeing that his section was empty he decided to step outside for a moment and get some fresh air. Most of the patrons smoked during or after their meals so the air inside was always thick and hazy. That and the natural light from outside was purposefully kept out,  _ambiance_  his boss called it. 

 

Steve was the first to admit that he didn’t know much about running a restaurant, but he did know that going too long without seeing the sun made him a little stir crazy.

 

He leaned against the facade of the building, taking a deep breath and letting his eyes adjust to the sunlight. A few cars moved steadily down the street in front of him, a group of college-age kids walked passed,  and a mother led her two children by the hands on the other side of the street.

 

He thought briefly of his own parents; he hadn’t spoken to them in a while. Neither of them had been thrilled with his decision not to go to college, but after witnessing his less than stellar performance in high school, they couldn’t really argue with his assertion that school just wasn’t for him. They’d still helped him out, sending money to cover rent and groceries when he was in between jobs and he still talked to them occasionally. It wasn’t like they’d ever been close, even when he still lived at home, so their current arrangement worked just fine for him.

 

He was brought out his thoughts and back to the present as a man stormed down the street in front of him. He was moving quickly, despite his obvious limp, and he moved like he was trying to get away from something. He was dressed in a stained jumpsuit, the kind a mechanic would wear, but the closest garage Steve knew of was several blocks away.

 

The guy slowed as he approached the street corner and stopped to lean against the pole. One hand moved to his leg, rubbing it like he was in pain and the other went to his cheeks to wipe the tears off his face.

 

Steve watched as he took a shuddering breath and leaned his head back with his eyes closed, seemingly trying to collect himself. 

 

Steve wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for a situation like this. On one hand, this man was a complete stranger, he was clearly upset about something, and he could be dangerous for all Steve knew. On the other hand,  he was alone and crying in public and something twisted inside Steve at the thought of just leaving him there.

 

It’s not like anyone had ever accused Steve of making smart decisions before.

 

As he approached the other man, Steve got a better look at him. He looked around Steve’s age with blond hair cropped close to his head, military-style. He had a strong jaw and ears that stuck out just a little too far.

 

Steve stopped a few feet from the other man, trying to appear nonthreatening while also giving himself enough room to get away if anything went wrong.

 

“Hey man, are you okay?” he asked. 

 

The other man’s eyes snapped open, they were a beautiful shade of blue, though bloodshot from crying and still wet with tears. 

 

He seemed panicked for moment as he looked Steve up and down, like he was assessing him. Whatever he saw, it couldn’t have been bad, because he relaxed slightly after a moment.

 

“I’m fine,” he replied, though the shakiness in his voice and slight tremor in his hands told a different story. 

 

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down?” Steve asked, glancing at the man’s obviously injured leg.

 

_ What are you doing? _ He thought to himself,  _  you don’t know this guy, you don’t know where he came from or why he’s so upset _ . The rational side of Steve’s mind tried to remind him that this was potentially dangerous, but the other side, the side that convinced him to adopt a bunch of middle schoolers back in Hawkins, wouldn’t let him drop it.

 

The man looked at him like he was crazy for a second, then glanced down at his own leg. He opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, then said, “Sure.”

 

Steve tried to keep his calm, unsure of what exactly to do now.  _ If you’d just mind your own business _ , he reminded himself,  _ things like this wouldn’t happen _ . Too bad he’d never been good at minding his own business.

 

“Come one,” he said, slowly moving back towards the restaurant. “It’s pretty slow right now, so if you wanna just sit for a few minutes, you can.”

 

The man followed him, a few steps behind, as Steve led to two of them back into the dimly lit dining room. 

 

Steve pointed the man to a table in his section. “You can just sit here if you want. Unless you want something. Do want something to drink? Or I could bring you a menu. I’m Steve, by the way, and I’ll be your server today” He smiled, trying to make a joke. Trying and failing, if the man’s expression as anything to go by. 

 

“Just a glass of water. I can’t stay for too long, I have to get back to work.”

 

“One glass of water, you got it”

 

Steve wondered again where the man was coming from that had made him so upset and where he was now in such a rush to go back to.

 

A moment later, he returned to the table with a glass.

 

“You sure you don’t want anything else? It’s on the house.” It’d be coming out of his paycheck, but he wasn’t desperate for money, and what was the point of having rich parents if he couldn’t ask them for money every now and then?

 

“No, thank you.”

 

Steve smiled, “Well, enjoy!” he said trying not to sound as awkward as he felt. The man was clearly not very talkative.

 

Steve wandered back towards the kitchen where he could still watch the man without being too obvious in his staring. The guy looked out of place, sitting in a restaurant in a grease-stained jumpsuit, but despite his unusual attire, Steve had to admit that he was handsome.

 

He watched as the man finished off his glass and pushed his chair back from the table. Steve made his way back to the table just as he was standing up to leave.

 

“You sure you don’t want anything else?”

 

“No, like I said, I have to get going. But thank you.”

 

The man looked directly into his eyes as he said his thanks, and Steve almost wanted to back away from the intensity of it. He felt like he was being thanked for more than just a glass of water.

 

“My name’s Billy, by the way. Billy Hargrove.” The man said, extending his hand.

 

Steve took it, “Well Billy, I hope you have a good day. Come back anytime you like.”

 

Billy squeezed his hand slightly, “You have a good day too, Steve.”

 

They released each other’s hands and Billy turned made his way to the front door, his limp not quite as pronounced as it had been. 

 

The door closed behind him and he soon moved out of sight, leaving Steve standing at a now empty table in an almost deserted restaurant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's chapter 2.Enjoy :).
> 
> Again, all mistakes are my own, please let me know if there are any glaring grammar/spelling errors as well as if anything is terribly, historically inaccurate
> 
> The post that inspired this whole thing: https://harringrove000.tumblr.com/post/177595470315/vietnam-warhippie-counterculture-au-billy-a


	3. Chapter 3

Returning to work after his episode had been about as awful as he’d thought it would be. Most of the guys just stared at him, unsure of what to say or how to react. He wasn’t the only vet working there, but no one felt comfortable talking about it. His boss had simply asked him where he’d gone and he responded with a terse, “lunch.”

 

He finished out the day working on a Buick and trying to keep his mind from wandering back to the waiter with the pretty eyes. The latter of which was turning out to be harder than he’d thought.

 

Billy hadn’t been the only guy in the army that was attracted to other men. Hell, he hadn’t even been the only guy in his unit that was a queer. In a warzone, you took comfort where you could find it, whether that meant paying a prostitute or in the arms of one of you fellow servicemen.

 

Since he’d been back in the states, Billy hadn’t felt the urge find anyone to share his bed. When he was younger, when he still cared about maintaining an image, he would hook up with girls from his high school and, every now and then, a boy, when he felt like he could get away with it.

 

But that had been then, and this was now and he hadn’t felt the urge to do much more than hide in his apartment since he’d been back. Which made his reaction outside the restaurant all the more unusual.

 

It had been a long time since he’d felt such an immediate attraction to someone, but, to be fair, it had also been a while since he’d seen a guy so damn pretty. And hell, had Steve been pretty. From his wide, brown eyes to his soft face and feathered hair, he looked like he’d stepped out of Billy’s dreams.

 

So of course they’d met when Billy was crying on a street corner after having a panic attack. He’d wanted to turn tail and run as soon as they’d made eye contact, but his leg had been aching the offer of somewhere to sit had sounded too good to resist. And Steve had still been nice to him, despite the state he’d been in, and offered him a meal for free; it was the nicest any stranger had been to him since he’d gotten back.

 

Of course, kindness did not mean that Steve was gay, but setting his own attraction aside for the moment, it was still nice to have someone be friendly towards him.

 

Billy almost laughed at how low the bar had been set since his reception upon arriving back in the states.

 

When his shift at the garage ended a few hours later, Billy climbed into his car and pulled away from the curb. As he came up on the corner where he’d stopped earlier today, he couldn’t help but glance toward the row of storefronts, searching for Steve’s restaurant.

 

It was easy to spot; it was the only restaurant on the block. It was probably busier now, with people going out for dinner and Steve probably wasn’t even there anymore. Billy didn’t even consider stopping, but he did make note of exactly what street it was on, pretending that he didn’t know what he was going to do with that information.

 

He kept the windows rolled up on his drive home. Logically, he knew the thin glass of his car’s windows wasn’t much a barrier from anything besides a breeze, but a nagging part of his mind was constantly reminding him that he needed to have his defenses up.

 

It was why he so rarely ventured out from his apartment for anything other than work and necessities, like food. And even grocery shopping he tended to put of until his kitchen was devoid of almost anything edible.

 

Shortly after his return, he’d convinced himself to go for a drive. He’d wanted to get a feel for the city, for America, after so much time spent away. He’d pushed himself, sweating and panicky, into his car and just started driving.

 

He’d been surprisingly okay at first. The city was calm enough that nothing triggered a panic attack or any violent flashbacks. It turned out, there was something else he’d needed to worry about.

 

While he’d been overseas, he hadn’t been too concerned with what people back in the states thought about the war. It had rarely crossed his mind when survival was almost always his main concern.

 

He’d heard the news, of course, the bits that managed to reach them, about protesters and the anti-war movement. But it had never occurred to him what those protests really meant, until he was back home.

 

He remembers it vividly. He’d had no destination in mind, deciding which turn to take in the moments before he came to a corner. It was almost comical, if he’d made a few different turns, he could have avoided that experience altogether.

 

There had been a large group of people, mostly college students, by the look of them, crowded together on the sidewalk and spilling over into the street. They were clearly riled up, yelling, and many of them were holding banners and posters. A line of police officers armed with riot shields and batons stood on the opposite side of the street, ready to approach at any provocation.

 

He’d looked on, at first just in curiosity. It wasn’t until he got closer that he was able to read the signs and felt his breath catch.

 

‘Murderers” their signs declared, ‘get out of Vietnam!’ Some people held up peace signs, but many more held up condemnations of the war. It felt like everywhere he looked, he saw the word murderer. Some people held up images, some photographs, some drawings, of U.S. soldiers killing Vietnamese people, burning down villages, dropping bombs on the whole country.

 

 _That’s me_ , he thought, incredulously, _I’m the murderer they’re talking about_. He felt adrenaline surge through his body like he hadn’t felt since he’d been in open combat. He recognized the feeling of his body reacting to a threat, bracing for attack.

 

He somehow managed to pull his car over to the curb and park before he lost control. _Murderer_ , the signs screamed at him, _you’re a murderer!_ Suddenly, he wasn’t in California anymore. He was back in the jungle, gun in hand, having to make the worst decisions of his life.

 

He had killed people. He was a murderer. He remembered how it felt; the first time, the second, the third, it never got any easier. It had been life or death, both sides were set on killing each other and he’d had to kill to get himself and the rest of his squad out alive. The rationale hadn’t made it any easier to look someone in the eye, sometimes children younger than himself, and shoot them down where they stood.

 

He’d sat in his car that day, head in his hands, reliving every violent act he’d committed in the name of his country. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but when he’d finally collected himself enough to look outside, most of the protesters and police officers had dispersed.

 

Thinking back, he was still amazed he’d managed to make it home without crashing. Hours after he’d arrived back at his apartment he was still too keyed up to sit down, let alone sleep. He’d stayed awake almost that entire night, pacing his apartment, with a kitchen knife clutched in his hand.

 

Now, when he arrived home, he headed straight into the bathroom, knowing that if he allowed himself to collapse on the couch or his bed he would spend the next few hours doing nothing but staring blankly at the wall.

 

He forced himself into the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up. It wasn’t worth it, his military habit had him in and out of the shower in minutes. Throughout the whole process, he avoided looking at himself in the mirror.

 

When he was younger, he’d been incredibly vain. He’d always been attractive; he’d known this and he’d had no problem showing it off. Nowadays, he didn’t much like looking at himself. The only only time he spent a significant amount of time in front of the mirror was when he trimmed his hair, something he had to do every few weeks. That too was a very different habit from when he was younger. In high school, he’d kept his hair uncommonly long and when he’d had to cut it for training, it had been the first sign that life in the army was going to change him fundamentally as a person.

 

Since then, he’d grown accustomed to the buzz cut. Maintaining it gave him some semblance of control, when for the most part, it felt like his life was teetering on the edge of collapse.

 

He still had another few days before he’d have to trim it again, so for tonight, he simply hopped in and out of the shower, quickly dried himself off, and made his way to his bedroom.

 

He stopped in the doorway, considered his bed for a moment, before he sighed and approached the far wall instead. As he’d done the night before, he lowered himself down to the floor, back against the wall, and settled in for another restless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed we had our first mention of Billy's car. Did I look up what year Camaros were first introduced and purposely time the story around that? Maybe.
> 
> It was 1966.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day? Happy Halloween, guys.

 

The next few days passed by uneventfully. Billy woke up, went to work, came home at night, and went to bed. He hadn’t had any big incidents and aside from the lack of sleep, he was feeling pretty okay.

 

He tried to convince himself that that was the only reason he was getting dressed to go out on his day off.

 

It was a Sunday, meaning the garage was closed. He had nowhere to be and yet he found himself standing in his room dressed in jeans and a shirt buttoned to mid-chest arguing with himself about what he was about to do.

 

His plan for the day was simple: he was going to go have lunch. Outside of his apartment. At the restaurant he’d wound up at the other day. The one where Steve worked.

 

He tried convincing himself that it didn’t mean anything. It probably wasn’t healthy for him to be spending all his free time inside and he’d need to eat eventually. Sure there were places he could go that were closer to home, but he’d already been to this one before and he’d liked it. Even if he hadn’t actually eaten anything, the environment seemed nice. It had nothing to do with a particularly pretty waiter.

 

And even if it did, he was allowed to make friends. It probably wasn’t healthy for him to spend all his free time alone, either. That’s all this was, him being friendly.

 

He sighed, he didn’t know why he was bothering to lie to himself. He’d never been good at denying himself anything he wanted and he hadn’t changed that much in the last few years. He looked at himself in the mirror, maybe his vanity hadn’t changed that much either. He looked a lot different than he used to, but he had to admit, he still looked good.

 

He glanced at his bedside clock. He’d woken up early, as he did everyday, and had been killing time until it was late enough to go to lunch. Both hands were pointed upwards toward the twelve and he took one last look in the mirror before heading to the door, stopping only to grab his car keys off the counter.

 

* * *

 

 

The place was busier than the last time he’d been there; that was immediately obvious. It made sense, it was lunchtime and most people didn’t work Sundays, leaving them free to go out. Confronted with all the people and noise, Billy started to regret his decision to come at all.

 

He made eye contact with the smiling hostess and he felt his throat dry up when he tried to say something. He was aware that he was standing, silently just inside the doorway, but he couldn’t bring himself to move any closer or say something. Suddenly, a voice cut through his rising panic,

 

“Billy! You came back.” Steve approached him from the dining room. He had a notepad in hand and a pen tucked behind one ear. He was just as pretty as Billy remembered.

 

Forcing the words passed his lips, he responded, “I figured I should actually give the food a chance,” trying to force the charm that used to come so easily into his words.

 

“Friend of yours, Steve?” the hostess asked, looking between the two of them.

 

“Yeah, Billy and I go way back,” he chuckled, “c’mon, he can sit in my section.”

 

The hostess lead him to a table and handed him a menu, “your server will be right with you,” she glanced at where Steve as hovering just a few feet away, then added “But I’m guessing you already knew that.” With a smile, she walked back to her post.

 

Steve approached a minute later, “Hi, I’m Steve and I’ll be your server today,” he said with a smirk, “Can I get you started with anything to drink?”

 

“Hamm’s,” Billy answered, glancing at the drink list. The beer had been his drink of choice when he was younger and he couldn’t help but feel a little like his high school self. This whole outing had been a risk. He used to thrive on risk taking; from driving too fast and drinking too much to sneaking around with other boys and testing how far he could push his father until he snapped.

 

It was little sad, how much lower his tolerance for excitement was. But even going out for lunch like he was right now would’ve been unthinkable a month ago,so he was trying to take his victories, small as they may be, where they came.

 

“Hamm’s it is,” Steve said with a smile. He wandered off, back towards the kitchen and Billy couldn’t help but watch his retreating form until he disappeared behind the counter.

 

Billy studied the menu for the next few minutes until Steve came back with a can and a chilled glass to take his order. While waiting for his food, he took the time to look around the restaurant and study the other patrons.

 

It was mostly younger people, hippie types with loose clothing and and messy hair. He made a small note of how out of place he must look. At least none of them seemed to present any immediate threat. Part of him hated that that was how he qualified people, but the assessment still helped to put him a little bit at ease.

 

Steve returned a little while later with his plate, but after placing it on the table, he hovered for a moment instead of walking away.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked, “You just seemed upset the other day, is all.”

 

Billy swallowed down the anger and shame he could feel rising in his throat. He hated talking about his episodes almost as much as he hated having them. He was ashamed of having so little control over his emotions and he tried his best to keep it all inside. He hated that the first time they had met was when he was at his worst.

 

“I was having a bad day,” he tried to keep his voice casual, “But luckily for me, some guy found me, he was real nice about it too. Helped me out,” Billy added, giving Steve the most charming smile he could muster.

 

“Yeah, Sounds like you were pretty lucky,” Steve laughed, “but I’m glad you’re feeling better today.”

 

“Yeah, me too”

 

Steve looked like he was about to say something else, but just as he opened his mouth, the bell rang from the counter and he seemed to remember that he had other other customers to take care of.

 

“I’ve gotta…”he gestured vaguely towards the kitchen, “enjoy your meal, if you need anything just call me over.” He departed with one final smile.

 

Billy took his time eating, for once in no hurry to go home. The noise level in the restaurant was a little more than he was used to, but the people were calm and there were no sudden movements or loud noises.

 

He spent most of his time watching to other patrons or following Steve with his eyes as moved from table to table. A few times, Steve would look over and catch him staring and every time he would just smile and raise a hand in acknowledgment.

 

When Billy, finally finished eating, Steve wandered over with the check.

 

“I was wondering,” he began, “most of our regulars are people who live around here. Did you just move into the neighborhood?”

 

Billy looked up at him; a small, paranoid voice in his mind yelling at him to not give away any information. He tried his best to silence that voice and respond like a normal person.

 

“You assuming I’m gonna become a regular, Steve?”

 

“Well, Billy, you have been here twice in the last week. Seems pretty regular to me.”

 

Billy chuckled, “Well, I’ve guess you’ve got me there, pretty boy.”

 

Billy froze as soon as the words left his mouth, too late to stop, as he realized what he said. Luckily, Steve didn’t seem to take it seriously and he just laughed.

 

“Still doesn’t answer my question.”

 

Billy took an extra second to respond, making sure he didn’t slip up again, “I work a few blocks away. I just got back pretty recently and I’m still trying to relearn the city.”

 

“Got back? Where were…” He trailed off and Billy watched as his eyes trailed up and down Billy’s body, no doubt taking in his short cropped hair and rigid posture, at odds with almost everyone else in the restaurant. Billy could see the moment the realization clicked.

 

“Oh, you mean...you were-”

 

“Yeah, I was.”

 

He suddenly didn’t feel so good anymore. His experiences since he’d been home had shown him how a lot of people felt about returning soldiers and he had no desire to stick around and have Steve and a restaurant full of hippies call him a murderer.

 

He pulled out his wallet and quickly counted out the money he needed to cover his bill and a tip.

 

“Thanks for lunch,” he said, standing. His leg protested such sudden movement after sitting for so long, but he did his best to ignore it.

 

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome. I hope we’ll see you again,” Steve responded, the last bit sounding more like a question than a sincere request. If anything, he sounded nervous.

 

Billy looked down at at his shoes, not wanting to look at Steve’s face and see whatever emotion was there making him sound like that.

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you around, Steve.”

 

He headed to the door without looking back.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve had been genuinely surprised when Billy walked into the restaurant. Their experience a few days before had been almost surreal in its strangeness and Steve had assumed he wouldn’t be seeing Billy again.

 

He almost hadn’t recognized him. He’d been dressed casually, in jeans and a button down, rather than the stained jumpsuit he’d had on the last time. He was still walking with a limp, but he was much more at ease than before, definitely no shaking or crying. 

 

They’d been getting along okay, too. At least Steve had thought so, until he brought up why Billy was in the neighborhood. 

 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, that Billy was newly back from the war. It explained his hair, how rigidly he carried himself, and the breakdown Steve had interrupted the other day. But still, he had been surprised and he hated himself for how he reacted. 

 

He knew how a lot people felt about the boys returning from Vietnam and it made him sick sometimes to see how vets were being treated. Steve hated the war and felt strongly that the U.S. should get the hell out of Vietnam. Hell, he’d been to quite a few protests himself, but it had never sat right with him, when protesters blamed soldiers for what the government was telling them to do. And with the draft in place, most the people over there had been forced to go or risk jail time.

 

He couldn’t forget the way Billy had refused to look at him when he’d left. He’d thrown enough money on the table to cover his meal and practically ran out the door. Or, at least, as close to running as he could get with that limp. Which also should have been a clue that Billy had been in the war. 

 

He’d had no choice but to finish out his shift, he couldn’t just run after Billy to apologize. His boss was pretty lenient and was usually smoking something in his back office, but Steve still didn’t think he’d appreciate it if one of his waiters ran off while he was supposed to be on shift.

 

At two o'clock, when the lunch shift ended, he was able to leave. Rather than go home immediately, he used used the pay phone in the restaurant to dial Nancy and Jonathan. He had no idea if either of them were home, but he really wanted to talk to someone.

 

“Hello?” Nancy answered.

 

“Hey, Nance, it’s Steve. Are you busy right now?”

 

“No, I just got home. Jonathan’s still out. Did you need something?”

 

“You mind if I come over?”

 

“Of course not.”

 

“Alright, thanks. I’m heading over now.”

 

* * *

 

It took ten minutes on the bus to get from the restaurant to their apartment. A short walk up two flights of stairs placed him at their door where Nancy let him in. They settled on her couch and Steve knew had seconds left before she interrogated him about why he’d asked to come over. 

 

“So,” she began, “You know I always like seeing you, but we don’t usually hang out during the week, especially not without making plans in advance.”

 

“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?”

 

She raised her eyebrows at him.

 

Their relationship may have changed a lot since they were teenagers, but there were somethings he still wasn’t immune to. It took only seconds before he cracked under her gaze.

 

“I need your advice on something. I think I upset someone today. I didn’t mean to” he quickly clarified, “but I just did something stupid and I know he wasn’t happy about it. And I feel really bad about it, but I don’t know how to tell him that I didn’t mean it.”

 

“And this just happened today?”

 

“Yeah, he was a customer at the restaurant.”

 

“And now you need advice on how to apologize?”

 

“Basically, yeah.”

 

She regarded him for a moment, before laughing slightly. “You’re too nice for your own good sometimes. Have you considered just saying you’re sorry?”

 

“Of course I have, but I don’t think he’ll want to come back to the restaurant after today.”

 

“And you don’t know where else to find him?”

 

Steve was about to reply that no, he did not. But he thought back to the first time he’d seen Billy and the grease-stained jumpsuit he’d been wearing. There was a garage not too far from the restaurant.

 

“I have an idea of where he might work,” he began, hesitantly, “Do you think it’s too much to show up looking for a guy I barely know just so I can apologize to him?”

 

“I think that it doesn’t really matter what I think, because you’re going to do that anyway.”

 

Steve opened his mouth at first, ready to argue her assumption, but as he thought about it, he knew she was right. 

 

“I am going to, aren’t I?”

 

“Yes, because you’re too much of a good person to hurt someone’s feelings and not apologize. And that’s a good thing,” she assured him.

 

“If you say so,” he sighed. “Enough about that. We haven’t hung out in a while, how’re you? How’s Jonathan?”

 

“We’ve been good. Busy, but good. I’m sure Jonathan would like to catch up with you too. Do you want to hang out until he comes home?”

 

It wasn’t like Steve had anywhere else he needed to be and besides, he enjoyed Nancy and Jonathan’s company, even if it did make him feel like a third wheel sometimes and reminded him of his own desolate love life. 

 

He agreed to stay and briefly reflected on how glad he was that they’d all been able to move passed the awkward positions they’d been in in high school to stay friends for so many years later. 

 

* * *

 

Monday morning saw Steve back at the restaurant, preparing for lunch. His shift seemed to fly by, from preparing to serving, to eventually telling the last group in his section to have a good day. Normally, he be excited about the end of shift coming so quickly so he could enjoy some free time, but today he was nervous.

 

After his talk with Nancy the day before, he’d decided he was gonna walk over to the garage where it was likely Billy worked. If he was there, he’d apologize and they could both move on. If he wasn’t there, well, then Steve would have to move on by himself and accept the fact that there was a stranger out there who would never know how sorry he was. 

 

When the time came for him to clock out, he hung his apron up in the back and loitered for another few minutes, talking to the afternoon shift trying to delay leaving as much as possible.

 

But he couldn’t put it off forever, and eventually he had to leave. 

He squinted in the sunlight momentarily, not having been outside since the morning. When his eyes adjusted a moment later, he began walking. The garage was only a few blocks away and shouldn’t have taken him more than ten minutes to reach, but he purposely walked as slow as he could.

 

He knew he was being ridiculous. No one was making him do this and there wouldn’t be any real consequences if he didn’t. But he remembered the way Billy had looked the day before; how he had gone from being talkative and smiling to subdued and practically running out of restaurant. Steve couldn’t just leave it at that. 

 

The garage had a chain-link fence separating it from the businesses next door, but its parking lot was open to the street for people to pull their cars into. The plain brick building had two overhead doors out front, both of them open to show the cars inside being worked on and the handful of guys inside. There was a smaller door off to the side, most likely an office.

 

None of the guys seemed to notice Steve approaching, or they saw him and simply didn’t care. When he got close enough that they couldn’t ignore him anymore, the guy closest to him finally looked up.

 

“Can I help you?” He asked, though his tone suggested the last thing he wanted to do was help.

 

“Yeah. Uh, does anyone named Billy work here?”

 

The guy gave him a curious up and down and Steve stood uncomfortable under his gaze, unsure of what he was looking for. After waiting just enough time to make it weird, the guy turned into the garage,

 

“Hey Hargrove,” he yelled “you got someone here to see you!”

 

Steve heard movement from somewhere behind one of the cars and a second later, Billy emerged, back in the same jumpsuit he’d been wearing when they’d first met.

 

“What the hell are you talking…” he was saying as he approached, dropping off mid sentence when he saw who it was.

 

“Steve.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders slightly, but his eyes still met Steve’s with an intensity that made him uncomfortable.

 

“Hey, Billy,” he said, trying for casual, “You have a minute?”

 

Billy glanced around at the assembled mechanics, the closest of whom were pretending they weren’t listening. Billy jerked his head toward the parking lot where Steve had come from,

 

“Come on.”

 

Steve followed him back outside and they stopped about halfway to the street, far enough away that no one else would hear them as long as they kept their voices low.

 

“I wanted to apologize,” he began, before he could psych himself out. “For yesterday at the restaurant. When you said you’d just gotten back, I know I was weird about it, but I was just surprised, is all. I’m not one of those people who hates soldiers or vets or anything. So if you thought that was what’s happening I just wanted to let you know it’s not. And I’m sorry. For making you uncomfortable”

 

Billy stared at him for a moment and Steve considered saying something else, anything else, just to fill the silence, but then Billy started laughing. Loud, full laughter that Steve would have never expected from him.

 

Billy took a second to gather himself before finally meeting Steve’s eyes again.

 

“Let me get this straight,” he began. “You accidentally upset me, someone you barely know, and somehow you tracked me down where I worked, just so you could show up and apologize.”

 

Steve nodded.

 

Billy chuckled again, “You’re really something else, pretty boy. I accept your apology. I overreacted anyway.”

 

Steve stood silent for a moment, shocked as he watched Billy laugh. His whole face lit up and his eyes were bright. Steve rarely felt the urge to call men beautiful, but no other word could capture what Billy looked like right then. 

 

He realized he’d been standing there without speaking for just a second too long.

 

“Okay, uh, thank you. For accepting my apology.” That had been easier then he’d anticipated. They both stood silently for a moment, unsure of where to go. Steve had accomplished what he’d gone there to do, but now saying goodbye and walking away didn’t feel right.

 

“Would you wanna hang out sometime?” Steve asked.

 

“Hang out?” Billy asked, looking at him incredulously. 

 

“You said you were trying to relearn the city. Maybe I could help? Might be more fun than wandering around on your own.”

 

Billy stared at him and Steve wished with everything in him for a way to somehow erase the last five minutes of his life.

 

Before he say something else or take the words back, Billy answered.  

 

“You know what, Steve? I would like that. You got anything in mind?”

 

The conversation was not going at all the way he’d planned it in his head and Steve really didn’t know where this idea to hang out with Billy had come from.

“Well,” he began, “I always get off from work at two; you could come by for lunch then we could go somewhere. Or sometime over the weekend. If that works better. For you.”

 

Billy smirked at him, clearly picking up on his nervousness, “That works just fine for me, Steve. I’ll swing by your restaurant and we can do whatever you want.”

 

“Did you have a day in mind?”

 

“Nah, I think I’ll make it a surprise. Now, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you ‘round.”

 

For just a second, his cocky smirk turned into something little more genuine and then he turned around and retreated back into the garage without another word.

  
_ A surprise _ , Steve thought.  _ What the hell have I gotten myself into? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I wrote the second half of this chapter on the google docs app on phone at a Halloween party and during the opening band/between sets at a heavy metal concert.
> 
> Also, minimal pain?? Who am I?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's a long one, today. I hope you like it.

Billy hated surprises. They were rarely good and nowadays something as small as an unexpected noise could send him into a panic. So when he’s heard that someone had shown up for him at the garage, he’d had to work extra hard to keep calm.

 

He had no way of knowing that that short conversation would be the best thing to happen to him since he’d returned. Maybe even since he’d enlisted.

 

Truthfully, he’s gotten over the incident at restaurant almost as soon as he’d left. He and Steve weren’t actually friends, they didn’t know each other, and his reaction to learning Billy had been a soldier? Nowhere near the worst Billy had had to deal with since returning. Sure, it had stung, but no more so than any of the other times he was reminded that people thought he was a murderer.

 

So he hadn’t been particularly hung up on the incident, which meant that Steve showing up to apologize to him had been the last thing he’d expected. He’d stood, stock still, through Steve’s whole speech and when he’d finished, Billy knew he should say something, but he’d been frozen by his own disbelief and delight. 

 

He hadn’t meant to laugh in Steve’s face, he really hadn’t. But standing there in the parking lot, some of his coworkers no doubt looking on, with this beautiful and ridiculous man he barely knew rambling out an apology for something Billy wasn’t even that mad about was the best thing that had happened to him in years and he didn’t even bother trying to contain himself.

 

He finally managed to collect himself enough to accept Steve’s apology and this time he didn’t even flinch when the words “Pretty boy,” left his mouth. Steve then went on thank him for accepting his apology and Billy knew he was gone. He was glad Steve asked him to hang out because he’d known in that moment that there was no way he was letting that man go.

 

_ I’ll make it a surprise _ , he’d said. Billy hated surprises, but for that moment it was like he was possessed by his younger self, reckless, thrill-seeking, flirtatious, and ready to throw caution to the wind. He knew it was a bad idea; it was a bad idea to flirt with a man, it was a bad idea to make plans with a stranger, and it was a bad idea to commit to doing whatever Steve wanted without knowing in advance. 

 

But for those few moments, Billy couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

* * *

 

Billy had never regretted anything more than he regretted telling Steve that the two of them could hang out. It had been a week since that day at the garage and Billy still had yet to follow through

 

He’d meant to. He’d wholeheartedly intended to saunter into the restaurant a few days later to meet up with Steve and for the two of them to spend the day together. That never happened. He’d wanted to wait a little before going, so as not to seem weird or desperate. He had no way of knowing what would happen two days later. 

 

It had been bad luck, really, and if he’d anyone else it wouldn’t have meant anything. At most, he would have lost some sleep and then moved on. It had probably been something mundane, a car backfiring, someone moving something heavy. But it didn’t matter what it actually was, what mattered was that he’d actually been having an okay night’s sleep when something outside had made a noise loud enough to wake him up, followed by several people yelling. 

 

The first noise had immediately sent him into a panic. He’d thrown himself off his bed and huddled in the corner of his room, back pressed to the wall. His walls and and furniture faded into the background and suddenly he was back in the jungle. The yelling voices weren’t coming from outside, they were next to him, members of his unit yelling as something exploded too close to them. 

 

He’d spent the rest of that night in the corner, sweating, hands shaking, both his breathing and his heart moving too quickly. He didn’t go to work the next morning and from where he sat he could hear his phone ringing from the kitchen. It was probably his boss calling to ask where the hell he was.

 

He finally pulled himself out of the corner so he could unplug the phone from the wall. He wasn’t going anywhere and he couldn’t stand the incessant ringing anymore.   

 

For three days he didn’t leave his apartment. He barely ate, never showered, and stayed safely in his room for as long as possible, jumping at any slight noise. 

 

On the fourth day, he’d forced himself to shower and trim his hair early in the morning and show up to work nine o’clock as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened the last few days. 

 

He’d received a stern talking to from his boss, which he’d “Yes, sir, I Understand,” and apologized his way through. Work itself had been normal, barring a few weird glances from his coworkers and that was how he found himself, one week since he’d spoken to Steve, standing in the single stall bathroom at the garage looking at himself in the mirror. 

 

He rarely brought a change of clothes to work. It wasn’t really necessary when he went straight from his apartment to work and back again without making any other stops. 

 

Today, he was making another stop. 

 

He left the bathroom, dirty jumpsuit clutched tightly in one hand and moved back through the garage towards the parking lot. 

 

“You goin’ somewhere, Hargrove?” A voice called out after him; he tried not to flinch. “I’ve never seen you in your civvies before!”

 

A couple of the guys laughed, “Look at you, dressed up all nice,” A new voice called out, “You got a date or something?” More laughter.

 

“Just meeting a friend,” he called over his shoulder, with an accompanying smirk, “Don’t wait up.”

 

Laughter followed him out into the parking lot and the cocky smirk dropped off his face as soon as no one could see him anymore. He was nervous. Not flashback, panic-inducing nervous, but his palms were sweating and he tried to remind himself why he’d ever thought this was a good idea. 

 

Steve’s restaurant wasn’t far from the garage, especially by car, and all too soon he was pulling up outfront. He hesitated at the curb for a minute, but his watch was quickly approaching two o’clock and if he didn’t act soon Steve would leave without him and he’d have to start this all over again the next day. 

 

_ I can do this _ , he thought,  _ I’ve done scarier stuff than this before and I’m still alive. I can do this. _

 

He pushed the door open and forced himself across the sidewalk and through the front door. The same hostess from the other day was at the podium and when she saw him, her face lit up with recognition.

 

“You’re Steve’s friend, right? Are you here to see him?”

 

He nodded. He’d made it inside, but speech hadn’t come to him. Not yet, at least.

 

“He just clocked out. He didn’t say you were coming to meet him. I’ll let him know you’re here, make him move a little faster. He usually hangs out for an extra ten minutes before he leaves; I don’t know what he’s waiting for. Goodness knows, most of us can’t wait to get out of here.”

 

Billy tried to let her know that that wasn’t necessary, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise and then she was gone before he could do anything. 

 

He hovered awkwardly for a moment, not wanting to remain in the entryway, but unsure of where else to go. It really wasn’t a big deal, but he could feel his nerves, already on edge, getting worse. He felt too exposed, too out in the open.

 

He was a second away from running back out to his car when Steve’s voice broke through the panic.

 

“Billy! You came. I was beginning to wonder if you’d just said you would to get me to shut up.”

 

“Well, I’m here,” He somehow managed to force out, “You got any big plans today?”

 

“Yeah, actually. I promised this friend of mine that I’d show him around.”

 

Billy laughed at that, “You have anything in mind? I know it’s kinda short notice,” Billy was still pissed at his past self for that surprise nonsense.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ve been thinking about this.”

 

He started walking towards the door and Billy turned to follow him.

 

“I’ve got a couple ideas, it depends on what you’re up for really,” he was still talking as Billy struggled to keep up with his pace outside. 

 

Steve seemed to notice after a second that Billy was a few steps behind him, limping where Steve could walk. He slowed down so they could walk next to each other.

 

“Have you been to Glendale La Loma Park since you’ve been back? If not, it’s gotten bigger in the last few years. It’s really nice.”

 

Billy shook his head as he directed Steve towards his car, “No I haven’t been. That works for me.”

 

“Okay, great. This is your car?” He asked, opening the passenger side door, “It’s really nice.”

 

“Thanks,” Billy said, settling into the driver’s seat, “I can’t exactly walk everywhere, y’know?” He gestured to his leg.

 

Steve laughed, then seemed to catch himself and looked at Billy nervously, as if he wasn’t sure he was supposed to be laughing. 

 

“You know how to get there, yeah?” He asked, rather than acknowledging Billy’s attempt at a joke.

 

“Don’t worry, pretty boy. It hasn’t been that long.”

 

Steve was silent for a moment as Billy pulled away from the curb and started driving.

 

“How long has it been? I mean, how long were you, uh, away?”

 

Billy thought for a moment,

 

“A couple of years. I was in basic for a while before they sent me overseas and compared to some guys, I wasn’t there very long.”

 

Steve shifted in the seat next to him. For a moment, Billy desperately wanted him to ask more questions, wanted an excuse to finally tell someone about it. From how awful it had been to cut his hair for the first time, to the friends he’d made in his unit and then having to watch some of those friends die, from how awful the rations had been to what it felt like to have lead enter his body at seventeen hundred miles an hour. He hadn’t talked to anyone about what he’d been through and he hadn’t realized until just then how desperately he wanted to.

 

Steve didn’t ask another question, though. Billy glanced at him, taking his eye off the road for a moment, and he saw Steve’s face scrunched, clearly thinking. He opened his mouth for a moment, as to say something else, but then closed it and remained silent. 

 

_ He doesn’t want to hear about it _ , Billy told himself,  _ no one wants to hear about it _ . 

 

“What about you?” He asked instead, not wanting to deal with the silence. “What’s your story?”

 

That seemed to have been the right question to ask as Steve dove into his story about growing up in a small town in Indiana.

 

Billy pulled into a parking space near the park as Steve was attempting to explain to him how some of his best friends in high school had been actually been middle schoolers, several years his junior.

 

“I know it sounds weird,” he was saying, “but we really got along well and they were honestly much better friends than any of the kids my age.”

 

“Whatever you say, Steve,” Billy said, turning the car off and opening his door.

 

He was immediately hit with all the noise coming from the park. There were people talking and shouting, children shrieking and laughing from the playground, and someone on the green was playing a guitar while others sang along. 

 

There were a lot of people. More than he’d dealt with in a while and it was loud and open and he felt to exposed and too vulnerable. 

 

“So, like I was saying before you interrupted to question my choice in friends,” Steve’s voice cut through his thoughts, “Dustin decided it would be a good idea to bring the thing home with him, so then we all had to deal with that.”

 

Billy looked over at him. He was completely engrossed in his own storytelling, not seeming to have noticed Billy’s momentary panic. Billy took a deep breath and followed him to the entrance of the park.

 

“So, when I graduated, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do. I stayed in Hawkins for another year another year until Nancy graduated. Nancy’s a good friend of mine. She got into Berkeley and her and her boyfriend moved here and I third-wheeled them across the country,” he said with a self deprecating laugh. “And now, here I am.”

 

“Here you are,” Billy said, unsure of where to go from there.

 

They had wandered out onto the green where various groups of people were hanging out. A handful of families were seated at the picnic tables and Billy picked out the group where the music was coming from a few yards away where a guy with no shirt and too many necklaces was strumming a guitar. He was surrounded by a half-dozen other people, men and women, dressed in baggy clothing and passing around a joint. 

 

He looked away and continued following Steve to an open patch of grass. Steve dropped to the ground and sprawled out with his hands underneath his head. He looked up at Billy, eyes squinted against the sun.

 

“We should have brought a blanket or something to lay on. Maybe next time.”

 

“Yeah, next time,” Billy answered, not really listening. 

He was trying to figure out how best to join Steve on the ground without looking like a fool. His leg made even the simplest movements difficult and getting up and down was nearly impossible without a wall or some piece of furniture to lean on. His best option at the moment appeared to be lowering himself as far down as he could, balanced on his good leg and then allowing himself to fall the last couple of inches.

 

“What’re you waiting for, man? Sit down.” Steve gave him a wide smile and patted the ground next to him invitingly. 

 

“I can’t, uh, it’s uh,” he gestured helplessly at his leg. He felt his face getting hot and he hated himself for it. He couldn’t even do something as simple as sit down. He felt stupid and helpless and, for an absurd moment, he wanted to stomp his foot like an aggravated child.

 

“Oh,” Steve said, realization dawning on his face. He hopped back to his feet and Billy had to tamp down his jealousy at how easily Steve was able to move.

 

“I’ve got you,” he said and suddenly Billy had a new problem to worry about.

 

Steve grabbed his arm. His large, warm hands wrapping gently around Billy’s bicep to support his left side as they slowly lowered him to the ground. He kept his torso upright, his right leg tucked close to his body while he allowed his left to extend straight out.

 

Steve dropped back down, sitting cross-legged next to him. He knocked their shoulders together gently.

 

“Good?” He asked with a wide grin.

 

“Yeah,” Billy agreed, unable to stop a small smile from creeping onto his own face “Good.” 

 

Steve flopped back down to lay on his back. He stretched his arms above his head, eyes closed, clearly enjoying the warmth from the sun. 

 

Billy took advantage of his closed eyes to marvel at how beautiful he looked. Something churned unpleasantly in his stomach, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. But he allowed himself, in that moment, the small pleasure of just looking. 

 

Steve opened his eyes and caught him staring, he smiled again.

 

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

 

Billy looked away to take in the rest of the park,

 

“Yeah, I am,” he found himself answering, honestly.

 

“Good. Now, enjoy it even more and relax a little.”

 

He tugged gently on Billy’s shoulder, pulling him down so he was lying next to him. 

 

Miraculously, Billy actually felt like he could relax. He knew it could all go to shit in seconds; any one of a hundred things could go wrong and send him into a panic, but with the soft grass beneath him, Steve to his side and the noises of the park dulling to a gentle rumble, he allowed himself the small pleasure of being able to enjoy the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Glendale La Loma Park actually did expand in 1966-67 (Yes, I looked up every park in Berkeley, California to find one that had changed/been renovated/been built sometime in '64-'67).  
> I've never actually been though, so everything I know about it comes from the City of Berkeley website and google images.
> 
> Also, there's no Upside Down in this AU, so what was it that Steve was talking about that Dustin brought home? Idk, use your imagination. Some wild animal, probably.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here she is.
> 
> Guys, let me tell you, this chapter did not want to be written and it wound up being kind of a filler ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I wasn't sure I was gonna get this chapter up today, so say thanks to freak snow storms in NYC that forced my university to close and gave me a ton of free time.

 

They wound up staying at the park for hours. It wasn’t until the sun started going down and the sky turned pink that they finally left. Steve had regaled Billy with stories from Hawkins and his first few years in California. In return, Billy told him a little about his childhood and his time in basic.

 

Steve noticed that he avoided specific details when talking about his past and he never once mentioned his time spent overseas. Steve couldn’t deny that he was curious, but he didn’t want to push if Billy wasn’t willing to tell him.  

 

“You need a ride home, pretty boy?” Billy asked, lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

 

Steve blushed at the nickname. Billy had been using it all day and Steve couldn’t quite tell if Billy was making fun of him or not. 

 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’ll show you how to get there.”

 

They both settled into their seats as Billy pulled out of the lot. Even with the smoke from his cigarette filling the interior and the promise of cool evening air outside, Billy kept all the windows shut.

 

Steve directed him through the city until they finally pulled up outside his building. Billy turned the car off and Steve had the urge to say something, but he couldn’t think of what. He felt absurdly like a girl being dropped off after a date.

 

But he wasn’t a girl and this hadn’t been a date. Just two guys hanging out. That’s all. 

 

“I guess I’ll, uh, see you later?” He said, for lack of anything better.

 

“I guess you will.”

 

Steve knew he wasn’t imagining the tension in the car. Billy had to feel it too, but he didn’t know what to do with it. They’d been comfortable with each other all afternoon. But now, in the small, enclosed space of the car, it was tense. 

 

Steve forced himself to open the door, shattering whatever moment had been building. 

 

“Bye, Billy.”

 

“Bye, Steve.”

 

Steve stepped out of the car, shut the door behind him, and heard the rumble of the engine as Billy restarted the car and drove away.

 

Steve lived by himself in a small apartment on the second floor of his building. He wasn’t close with his neighbors though he’d met a few of them. 

 

There was a group of no fewer than six people who all lived together at the far end of the hall. The were nice enough, from what Steve could tell and the air outside their door usually smelled like weed. There was a couple with a young baby across the hall from him; the parents always seemed harried and though he’d never seen the baby, he’d definitely heard it. The man two doors down from him owned a large dog and Steve tended to avoid both of them.

 

His own apartment was silent, no babies or pets to speak of. Most days he didn’t mind it, but sometimes he wanted some kind of noise so he didn’t feel quite so alone.

 

He switched on the TV and settled down on the couch, hoping the gentle sounds of Barbara Eden and Larry Hagman laughing on screen would put him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

He woke up disoriented a little after seven. The TV was still on, though he didn’t recognize the show.  

 

He stretched with a groan and rolled off the couch. He rubbed at his stiff neck as he wandered to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. 

 

He still had hours before he needed to be at work, a consequence of falling asleep so early. He muddled his way through his morning routine, taking longer than necessary in the shower and spending a good half hour in front of the mirror perfecting his hair. 

 

He wasted as much time as he could is his apartment before he finally decided to head out. He’d be early for his shift, but it wasn’t like he had anything else pressing to do. 

 

* * *

 

That evening found him back on his couch. He was feeling restless, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He was about ready to get up and start pacing when his phone started ringing. 

 

He ran to where it was mounted on the wall and answered on the second ring. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, Steve.”

 

“Oh, hey, Nancy. What’s up?”

 

“Are you busy this Saturday afternoon?”

 

“No, why?”

 

“You should come to Cal with Jonathan and I. Some of my old friends from school are getting together and it’d be great if you joined us.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll come. What time?”

 

“Early afternoon. You can meet Jonathan and I at home and we’ll head over together.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” he thought for a moment, “Would you mind if I brought a friend?”

 

“Of course not, although I never knew you had friends besides Jonathan and I.”

 

“Very funny. I’ll see you Saturday.”

 

“See you Saturday.”

 

He hung up the phone. Well, that solved what he was doing on Saturday, but he still had nothing to do at the moment. And now he also had to figure out when and how he was going to ask Billy to come with him. 

 

With a sigh, he grabbed his keys off the counter. Going for a walk was better than nothing. He let the door slam behind him.

 

* * *

 

On Friday afternoon, after finishing his shift, Steve decided to take lunch for himself and for Billy over to the garage. He’d found it was usually easier to get people to go along with what he was asking of them if he brought them food. 

 

This time, he approached the garage with little hesitation and walked in straight towards where Billy was working. He was half under a car, but he must have seen Steve’s feet or heard him approaching because he shuffled out from under it and looked up at Steve questioningly.

 

“You just gonna keep showing up every time you want something?” He was trying to sound annoyed, but Steve could hear the amusement underneath it.

 

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. I’ll-make-it-a-surprise.” He lifted the bag of food, “You have lunch yet?”

 

Billy shook his head and braced himself on the car to pull himself slowly to his feet. 

 

“Come on, break room’s back here.”

 

He led Steve through a door set in the far wall to a small dingy room. 

 

The break room looked more like large closet that someone had decided to set up a folding table and a few chairs in, but it did the job. They settled in and Steve started unpacking the food. 

 

“Not that I’m complaining, but is there any reason you decided to bring me lunch? Don’t you have a girl you’d rather treat instead?”

 

“No, uh, there’s no girl. I don’t have a girl. And even if I did, we’re still friends. Friends hang out together.”

 

It hadn’t occurred to Steve when he’d decided to do it that bringing someone lunch so that you could eat with them did seem like the kind of thing you’d do for someone you were trying to woo. The more he thought about it, spending the day together at a park also seemed like it could be a date. He was startled that he hadn’t realized how his own actions could be interpreted, but even more so he was startled that he didn’t mind the idea of going on dates with Billy as much as he felt he should.

 

He already knew he liked him, as a friend if nothing else, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to him. He’d noticed it before, how he’d catch himself staring at Billy when he smiled, or how breathless he’d been the first time he’d heard Billy laugh. 

 

He didn’t know what to do with this revelation. Billy seemed to have noticed that Steve was treating him like a girl he wanted to date, but he didn’t seem mad about it. Maybe he was just joking? 

 

Steve didn’t know how to figure out how Billy really felt about it without straight-up asking, and if Billy wasn’t okay with it….Well, he didn’t want to think about what could happen then. 

 

The whole time he’d been thinking, Billy had just been watching him. He looked amused, like he was holding back laughter at a joke Steve had missed.

 

“Well, I appreciate it. The food and the company.”

 

And that. That could almost be flirting. A lot of their conversations could probably count as flirting, the subtle compliments, the good-natured ribbing, and the fact that Billy seemed to like calling him pretty boy. Steve didn’t know what to do with any of it. Flirting with a man was uncharted territory and it was exciting, but also terrifying. 

 

“I’m glad. I wanted to see how you were doing, catch up. Maybe see if you were busy this weekend?”

 

Billy raised his eyebrows at him.

 

“Why? You asking me to do something?”

 

“Well, if you’re not busy, I’m getting together with some friends tomorrow afternoon and I was wondering if you’d want to tag along.”

 

“I don’t know,” He looked down at his lap, like he was embarrassed, “I don’t really do well in crowds or with unfamiliar people or places.”

 

“I’ll be there, I’m familiar,” Steve said with a smile, “And you said you wanted to relearn the city. You’ll have to go somewhere unfamiliar eventually, I just thought it would be better with someone you know.”

 

Billy looked up at him, searching, then sighed and looked back down at where his hands were clenched together.

 

“I,” he hesitated, “I might have to leave. I don’t know, something could go wrong and I don’t want to do anything bad.” He swallowed nervously, still not meeting Steve’s eyes. 

 

“Sometimes, I think I’m back there. And it’s hard for me to tell what’s real and what’s not. I don’t want to,” he let out a shaky exhale, like he was having trouble getting the words out, “I don’t want to do anything bad,” he finally said again. 

 

“Hey,” Steve moved on instinct and reached out to grab Billy’s hands in his own. Finally, Billy’s eyes shot up to meet his, “Listen, I won’t make you come, I want you to be comfortable. But it’d be nice to have you there and we can leave whenever you want.”

 

He could feel Billy squeezing his hands. He was clearly nervous, but his hands weren’t shaking and his gaze was steady.

 

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points to anyone who knows what show Steve was watching.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve had Saturdays off, so he was able to sleep in and take his time getting ready in the morning. As they had planned the day before, Billy pulled up outside his building a little after twelve and Steve ran down to meet him.

 

He slid into the passenger seat and turned to look at Billy who was staring resolutely forward and white-knuckling the steering wheel.

 

“Hey,” Steve said, softly, “If you really don’t feel good about this, we don’t have to go.”

 

Billy loosened his grip on the wheel somewhat at his words.

 

“It’s like you said, I’ll have to do it eventually. May as well do it now.”

 

“I just don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you.”

 

“You’re not. I’m here because I want to be here,” He finally met Steve’s eyes and the moment felt heavy with the weight behind those words. They stared at each other for a moment longer before Billy turned away with a soft huff of laughter.

 

“Besides, you couldn’t force me to do anything and I don’t need you questioning my decisions, alright?”

 

“Okay, okay. I got it,” Steve laughed.

 

And with the mood sufficiently lightened, Billy pulled away from the curb and Steve directed him to Nancy and Jonathan’s place.

 

“Normally, we just walk over to the campus from their place. It’s not too far and it’s easier to find parking farther away from the school,” Steve explained as they got closer. “But if you’d rather drive there, I get it. I’m sure they’ll understand. I know walking isn’t, uh, the easiest for you.”

 

Billy glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, “I’ve done worse things than walk down the sidewalk, Steve. I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not feeling that bad today.”

 

“Oh, okay. That’s, uh, that’s good. I’m glad it doesn’t hurt too bad.”

 

They were both silent for a moment, the awkwardness pressing between them until Billy let out a loud, exasperated sigh.

 

“I was shot. Twice,” he said. “Damaged the muscle, damaged my knee. They kept me at the field hospital for a while, but when it became clear I was never gonna walk normally again, they gave me a discharge and sent me home. Not much good to anyone over there if I can’t walk.”

 

Steve could hear the bitterness in his voice. He wanted to say something to make Billy feel better, but he didn’t know what would help. A simple ‘I’m sorry,’ probably wouldn’t cut it. 

 

Billy must have been able to sense his awkwardness, because he let out a chuckle and said,

 

“Don’t feel bad. I’m fine now. Or, at least, good enough. Hell, I’m just glad the guy had really shitty aim.”

 

Steve laughed at that. He still didn’t feel quite right, but he knew Billy was trying to crack a joke and ease the tension.

 

“Well, if nothing else, I’m glad you got sent back when you did. Just think, if anything had gone differently, we may never have met and then where would you be?” He was trying to keep his tone light, but their eyes met in the rearview mirror and for a moment, it was like they were both caught.

 

Before the moment could grow too long, Steve noticed where they were and he was forced to break the moment to tell Billy to pull over in front of the correct building.

 

“I’ll hop out here and go grab them and you can go find a place to park. Just meet us back here and we’ll head over together.”

 

Nancy and Jonathan’s building didn’t have an elevator, and despite Billy insisting that he didn’t mind walking, Steve didn’t want to  make him climb up and down two flights of stairs. Luckily, Billy agreed without protest and pulled away, leaving Steve to go collect the other two. 

When the three of them came back outside, Billy was there waiting, leaning up against the building, a cigarette dangling from his lips. 

 

“Billy, this is Nancy and Jonathan. Nancy, Jonathan, this is Billy.”

 

They all made their introductions and then started down the street.

 

“So, how did you two meet?” Nancy asked

 

“I wandered into his restaurant one day, and Steve here wouldn’t let me go until we were friends.” Billy answered, before Steve could say anything. 

 

_ Well, _ he thought, _ that’s one way to describe our first meeting _ .

 

“At the restaurant? Wait, Steve is Billy the guy you had to apologize to?”

 

At that, Billy’s snapped to attention, an amused smile on his face.

 

“They know about that?” He asked.

 

Embarrassed, Steve answered,

 

“I felt really bad about it, okay? I wanted to say sorry, but I wasn’t sure how. So I asked for some advice.”

 

Billy laughed out loud at that, that loud, full laugh that Steve had only heard a few times before. 

 

“You really are something else, you know that? I wasn’t even that mad about it.”

 

“Even so, it was still rude of me.”

 

“I’m sorry, what are we talking about?” Jonathan interrupted. 

 

“It’s nothing,” Nancy answered. “It looks like everything’s been worked out.” 

 

Steve didn’t like the way she was looking between him and Billy. The logical part of his mind was telling him that there was no way she could know about the revelation he’d had the day before, but there was still something unsettling in her gaze.

 

As they got closer to the campus, they began to hear loud voices and what sounded like someone talking over a megaphone. Jonathan and Nancy continued forward, curiously, but Steve feel Billy slowing down beside him.

 

When they rounded the corner, the source of the noise became apparent. 

 

A mob of students stood in the street while police officers tried to get them to disperse. Many of the students were holding signs and someone was waving a flag with a peace sign high above them. The police were all dressed for a riot, batons twitching in their eager hands.

 

“Maybe we should head back, hang out at home instead,” Steve suggested.

 

He could feel Billy next to him. He’d stopped walking and was standing stiffly, staring at the protesters, but not saying anything. 

 

“Go home? We should join them. C’mon Steve, I know you’ve gone to protests before.” Nancy answered him.

 

Her and Jonathan finally stopped walking and turned around to face him and Billy. They seemed to notice that Billy hadn’t said anything and seemed completely checked out from the conversation. 

 

“Are you alright, man?” Jonathan asked him.

 

Steve gently took hold of his wrist and he could feel Billy trembling slightly. The touch seemed to bring him back to the present.

 

“They’re protesting me.” he said. Jonathan and Nancy looked at him strangely.

 

“They’re protesting the war,” Nancy said carefully, “They think the U.S. should get out of Vietnam and, frankly, I agree with them.”

 

“I was in Vietnam.”

 

Nancy and Jonathan stared at him in shock.

 

“I was in Vietnam,” He said again. “They’re mad because soldiers are killing people. Innocent people, who didn’t deserve to die. I did that.”

 

He spoke matter-of-factly, but he seemed far away, like he wasn’t fully present and his eyes were unfocused, still looking in the general direction of the protesters.

 

Before Nancy or Jonathan could respond, Steve started tugging Billy away from the crowd.

 

“You guys go on ahead, if you want. We’ll stay back here.” He kept tugging and slowly Billy started following. Nancy was saying something, but he ignored her, focused on getting Billy back around the corner so he could no longer see the protests. He knew he’d owe her and Jonathan an explanation later, but that wasn’t his priority. 

 

He could feel Billy’s hand shaking where he was holding him and he could hear Billy’s breath starting to pick up.

 

When they could no longer see the protesters, it was like something in Billy snapped. His leg crumpled beneath him and Steve had to struggle to lower him gently and not let him collapse completely to the ground. Steve sat down next to him and he carefully placed his hand on Billy’s back and started rubbing. Billy took a deep, shaky breath.

 

“I’ve killed people. I’ve killed so many people, Steve,” His voice cracked as he spoke.

 

“You were a soldier, Billy. You didn’t ask for any of that, okay? You’re not a murderer.”

 

Billy looked up at him, his eyes watery. 

 

“You know I wasn’t drafted? I enlisted. I wanted to go over there.”

 

Steve didn’t know that. He was struck for a moment by how little he and Billy actually knew each other. They’d only hung out a few times. And yet.

 

“Why did you enlist? Did you want to kill anyone?”

 

“God, no. No. I needed job, I needed to get out away from home. It seemed like it would be so easy. I didn’t know.”

 

“You were a kid. A kid who needed somewhere to go and something to do. The army preys on people like that,” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice,the last thing he wanted to do was upset Billy even more and now was not the time to air his opinions on the armed forces. “Nothing you did was your fault.”

 

Billy was silent for a moment and Steve listened as his breaths started to slow down.

 

“Do you think you’re okay to stand? We just have to get back to the car then you can go home.”

 

Billy nodded. He braced one hand on the building behind him and slowly lifted himself off the ground. They made their way back to the car silently. When they came up next to it, Steve spoke up,

 

“Are you alright? Or do you think I should drive?”

 

Billy glanced over at him and Steve was amazed by the amount of disdain he was able to pack into a single look, especially while his eyes were still red and his cheeks tear-stained.

 

“You’re not driving my car, Steve.”

 

He said it so seriously that Steve couldn’t help but laugh and put his hands up in surrender. 

 

“Alright, come on, then.”

 

They both got in the car and Billy began driving away.

 

They were both quiet at first, until Billy, unprompted, spoke,

 

“Is it crazy that I’m still kind of glad I came today?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

 

“A little bit, yeah,” Steve answered, honestly. He waited for Billy to say something else.

 

“It’s just,” he began, still pointedly not even glancing in Steve’s direction, “I haven’t told anyone about it. Any of it. Enlisting, being over there, getting shot, having to come back. I wouldn’t have chosen to do it like this,” he said, with a deprecating snort, “but I think I needed to get it out.”

 

Steve watched him, unsure of what to say. He looked out the window and realized they were almost at his apartment. He’d planned to spend the day out with friends and now that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t mad at Billy for it, but he also didn’t want to retreat back into his apartment and spend the rest of the day alone.

 

When they pulled up out front, Steve didn’t get out of the car immediately. Instead, he turned in his seat to face Billy and asked,

 

“Do you want to come up?”

 

Finally, Billy looked away from the windshield and made eye contact with him.

 

“Yeah, I do.”


	9. Chapter 9

The inside of Steve’s apartment was more emptier than Billy expected. It was nice, the furniture all matched and he had TV set, something Billy had not yet acquired since he’d been home. But as nice as it was, it reminded Billy of his own place, as there were few personal touches. 

 

“Have a seat, have a seat,” Steve ushered him towards the couch. “Do you want anything to drink?”

 

Billy couldn’t help but start laughing. It was like a shitty reenactment of their very first meeting. He was a mess and Steve was trying to make it better by being the best waiter possible. Steve did not seem to find the situation as funny as Billy did and was looking at him strangely.

 

Rather than try to explain what he was laughing at and why it was so funny to him, he simply shook his head and said, “No, thanks.”

 

Steve sat next to him on the couch and took a deep breath, preparing himself to speak.

 

“I just,” he stopped to organize his thoughts, “I know you said you were glad you came even though,” he made a vague gesture towards the windows, trying to encompass the whole world outside his apartment, “all that happened. But I still feel like I need to apologize. You warned me that that could happen and I pressured you into coming anyway.”

 

“We’ve already been over this, Steve. You can’t force me to do anything I don’t want to do.” He scooted over on the couch to knock Steve’s shoulder with his own and left the two of them pressed together. “I may not act like it,” he said sarcastically, “but I’ve faced scarier things than college students with poster paper and strong opinions,” Steve laughed at that.

 

“Yeah, I guess you have.” He said softly. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on Billy’s injured leg, letting it rest on top of his jeans. “And you’re safe now. I know, I know it’s not easy, but you don’t have to be afraid of anything here. No one’s trying to hurt you and those kids, they’re mad at the government, not you. You did nothing wrong,” he continued on before Billy could interject, “It doesn’t matter if you enlisted instead of being drafted.”

 

Slowly, carefully, Billy lowered his hand down so that it was resting on top of Steve’s. He looked at the two of them, resting on his leg, then raised his eyes to meet Steve’s gaze. 

 

“Thanks.”

 

Steve’s eyes flicked down to his lips as he spoke and then back up to his eyes. And then back down again.

 

Billy could feel Steve’s hand twitch under his own and he could feel the tension rising between the two of them. He’d felt it before, when they were alone in the car together, when they were having lunch together; it had been there for ages, but neither of them had acted on it.

 

Billy made a decision. There were a lot of ways the next few minutes could play out. Most of them were awful, but some were good, so good, with the potential to be great. The final deciding factor was that, injured or not, he was pretty sure he could take Steve in a fight if this became a worst case scenario.

 

He leaned forward, moving just enough to close the distance between the two of them. If Steve realized what he was doing, he didn’t move away, but he didn’t move into it either. Billy pressed their lips together, softly, turning his head just enough that their noses didn’t press together. He held it for a moment before pulling back. 

 

Steve was staring at him, eyes wide, clearly shocked. He pulled his hand out from under Billy’s and Billy leaned away, ready to be told to leave. Instead, still not saying anything, Steve raised his hand towards Billy’s face. Billy flinched back, preparing for a blow that never came. Instead, Steve cupped the side of his face, long fingers stroking gently against his cheek, and pulled him forward so that their lips could meet again. 

 

This time, with both of them actively participating, kiss went beyond just a simple press of lips. When they pulled away from each other, Billy could feel the flush rising on his cheeks and Steve was no different. His usually pale cheeks had a rosy hue and his lips were still slightly parted and slick with saliva. 

 

“Oh,” he said, looking dumbstruck. “I don’t- I mean, I’ve never, uh, done that. With a guy.” He looked down at his lap.

 

“I didn’t mean to force it on you-”

 

“You didn’t.” Steve looked up so their eyes met. His cheeks were still flushed and he was wringing his hands nervously, but his eyes were clear and determined.

 

“Okay,” Billy continued, “I just, I like you. And I wasn’t sure if I was reading this right.”

 

“You were,” Steve said, “I mean, I like you too. And I don’t really know what to do with that. But if we like each other,” he trailed off.

 

“If we like each other…?” Billy prompted him to continue.

 

“Then, I don’t know. We should do something about it, I guess.”

 

“Do something about it?” Billy asked, amusement in his voice. “You know we can’t just go out on dates, a lot of people won’t like that.” He tried to keep his voice light, but the reality of the situation was crashing down on him. They couldn’t just ‘do something about it’ like Steve suggested. It wasn’t that simple. 

 

“I think we’ve already been going on dates, we just didn’t realize it,” Steve said. “So, maybe, we could just keep doing what we’ve been doing, and maybe, when we’re alone we could, you know,” he gestured vaguely between the two of them, “be more.”

 

“More?” Part of Billy wanted to talk Steve out of this. Steve from his small town in Indiana who had never been with a man before, who had no idea how difficult it could be. How dangerous it could be. But at the same time, he knew, regardless of what he’d been telling himself, that this was what he’d been hoping for since the first time he’d made a point to get dressed up nice and go back to the restaurant and find the pretty waiter who’d been so nice to him.

 

He reached out and took Steve’s hand again and leaned in close so their faces were almost touching again.

 

“Okay,” he breathed, “We can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double update? Again? I toyed with making these one big chapter, but eventually decided against it. Sorry for the longer than usual gap between updates, real life has been a lot recently. I hope I made up for it with this one.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the rating went up to explicit. 
> 
> Full disclosure: there is ZERO plot in this chapter, so if it's not your thing, feel free to skip it.

Dating was… interesting. They’d found ways to make it work, but it was still difficult to go on dates while trying to act like they weren’t going on dates. It really wasn’t much different than what they’d been doing before, but now that they were both aware of their feelings, it made them more conscious of their actions and how they might appear to others. 

 

Despite that, they’d still managed to have fun together. They’d gone out to eat a few times, which had been nice, though they’d had to remember to keep their distance across the table. They’d used another afternoon to spend a few hours wandering through small, quiet shops in the city looking at vintage clothes and weird knick-knacks. They’d tried to go see a movie, but that turned out to be more than Billy could handle and they wound up having to walk out of  _ 2001: A Space Odyssey _ . That night had still been a success though; they’d gone back to Steve’s apartment and spent the rest of the night playing board games instead.

 

As much fun as it could be to spend time together going out, they both liked spending nights in the privacy of their homes where they could be open with their affection for each other. Their stay-at-home dates usually started with some kind of planned activity, but always seemed to devolve into heated make-out sessions on one of their couches. 

 

Most recently, they’d decided to forgo going out at all and were spending the night curled together on Steve’s couch in front of the TV. Neither of them were paying attention to what was playing, though, they were too lost in each other.

 

The couch wasn’t wide enough to fit the two of them comfortably lying next to each other, so they were squished together, arms and legs entwined kissing passionately.

 

Billy pulled his lips away from Steve’s and moved to his neck, working his way down to the collar of Steve’s shirt. One of Steve’s hands was clutching the back of Billy’s shirt while the other was scratching through the short hairs on the back of his neck.

 

“Billy,” He gasped out, his voice breathy as Billy kissed his way down his neck. 

 

“Yeah, pretty boy?”

 

“We should move this, uh” he lost his words for a moment as Billy’s found an especially sensitive spot on his neck. “We should move this to my bedroom.”

 

Billy pulled his lips away from Steve’s neck so he could meet his eyes.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Steve shifted and pressed his hips closer against Billy’s so their matching hard-ons rubbed together. Billy groaned and Steve couldn’t help the small smirk that pulled at his lips.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure. C’mon.” Steve carefully extracted himself from Billy’s arms and rolled off the couch. Using gentle hands, he helped Billy sit up and pulled him off the couch.

 

“C’mon,” he said again, lips brushing against Billy’s and he gently tugged on his hands to lead him down the hall.

 

Despite how much time they’d been spending together at Steve’s apartment, Billy had never been in his bedroom. It wasn’t too much different from his own; there was a single window, a small dresser and an ensuite in the far wall. The center of the room was dominated by a queen sized bed. Steve kissed him again pulled him further into the room.

 

“I’m gonna need you to help me with this,” he murmured against Billy’s lips.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

 

Steve sat down on the bed and scooted back so he was able to lay down with his head near the headboard. When he’d settled in comfortably, he pulled his shirt off over his head and threw it to the side. Billy pulled off his shirt as well and carefully climbed on the bed after Steve. His bad leg prevented him from walking on his knees, so instead he pulled himself forward with his arms and let his leg drag behind him until he was able to collapse next to Steve.

 

Steve immediately kissed him again, parting his lips and allowing their tongues to meet. Billy ran his hands down Steve’s bare sides until he hit his jeans. He felt Steve shiver against him as he slowly undid the button and pulled the zipper down. Without letting their lips detach, Steve helped him push his jeans off his hips until he could pull them all the way off and thrown them off the bed. 

 

Steve pulled away from their kiss just long enough so that he could push Billy over onto his back and swing one leg over his waist so he was straddling Billy, who was lying prone on the bed. He planted his hands next to Billy’s head and leaned down to resume their kiss.

 

Billy tangled one hand in his hair while the other one moved down to grip his ass through his boxers. Steve groaned into the kiss and rocked his hips forward, rubbing his cock against the front of Billy’s jeans. Billy bucked his hips up and used his grip on Steve’s ass to rub their hips together.

 

“I gotta,” he said, breathlessly, “Gotta get these things off.” He took his hands of Steve so he could undo his own jeans, fingers fumbling as he tried to get them off as fast as possible.

 

Steve lifted off him just long enough for Billy to pull his jeans and boxers off and Steve took the time to take his own boxers off as well. When they were both fully naked, Steve climbed back on top of him. They both moaned as their bare cocks rubbed together for the first time. Steve ducked down again so he could recapture Billy’s lips as he rutted their hips together.

 

“We need,” Billy gasped, in between kisses, “If you want to go further we need-”

 

“Shh,” Steve shushed against his lips, “I know.” He pulled away just enough that he could reach the nightstand and pull a condom and a tube of lubricant from the drawer. He threw both on the bed before setting back on top of Billy.

 

“How do you wanna do this?” Steve asked.

 

“You can, you can do me. Just, get off for a second.”

 

Steve pulled himself off so Billy could get himself situated. Without Steve on top of him, he was able to spread his legs apart, using his hands to help lift and position the injured one.

 

“You’ve never done this before?”

 

Steve shook his head, “Not like this.”

 

Billy snorted in amusement, “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how it’s done.” He grabbed the lube and snapped open the top, squirting some onto his fingers. 

 

“You wanna help?”

 

Steve nodded quickly, scrambling to reposition himself between Billy’s spread legs. Billy raised his good leg and settled it on Steve’s hip, spreading himself even further. He tried not to be self conscious under Steve fervent gaze. It had been a while since he’d been with someone so intimately and he was trying not to let the intensity of it get to him. 

 

He closed his eyes as he brought his hand down between his leg, rubbing gently against his hole. He bit his lip against the sound that was trying to escape as he carefully pushed the tip of one finger in. He worked himself up for a minute before he pushed in further, letting out a gasp.

 

Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Steve’s eyes on him. He cracked his eyes open just enough to get a look at Steve,

 

“I thought you said you wanted to help?”

 

Steve snapped back to attention, pulling his eyes away from where he was watching Billy stretch himself so he could grab to lube and squirt some onto his own fingers.

 

“Go ahead,” Billy encouraged, “Just, be gentle. It’s been a while.”

 

If Billy would have laughed at the mix of nervousness and determination on Steve’s face, if it weren’t for how nervous he was himself. He wasn’t lying when he said it’d been a while. 

 

He let out a gasp when he felt one of Steve’s fingers gently prod against his hole and start to push in alongside his own finger. The stretch of two fingers burned a little bit, but underneath the pain, it felt good.

 

Steve followed his lead and gently rocked his finger in and out, fucking Billy with it as they stretched him open. Billy gasped as one of them brushed his prostate, his back arching up off the bed.

 

“Another,” he gasped out, “I need another.”

 

Steve rushed to obey, pushing in another finger a little faster than Billy would have liked, but the pain quickly receded into pleasure as all three fingers continued stretching him open. When the pain was completely gone and he felt comfortable around three, he pulled his finger out and felt Steve do the same.

 

He reached over for the condom, ripping the packaging open so he could roll it down over Steve’s cock. Steve, who seemed to have forgotten about his own arousal, moaned loudly as Billy’s hands gripped him to put the condom on. Billy squirted more lube onto his fingers so he could rub it on Steve’s cock, partly to get him and ready and partly because he like listening to Steve moan. He worked Steve a little more than was strictly necessary to get him wet, before removing his hand and settling down, flat on his back except for his one leg that was still hitched up around Steve.

 

“Whenever you’re ready, pretty boy.”

 

Steve moved forward slowly, rubbing the head of his cock on Billy’s hole before finally pressing in. They both let out loud, desperate noises as he Steve pushed inside. He moved slowly, taking his time and being gently as until his entire cock was inside Billy.

 

Billy was gasping loudly, practically panting at the feeling of being so stretched and so full. His eyes were closed and his head thrown back against the pillows. He reached out blindly with one had to grasp onto Steve’s shoulders.

 

“Move, you gotta, you gotta-” his words were lost as Steve pulled a few inches out before pushing back in, the head of his cock rubbing against Billy’s prostate. He did it again, building up a slow rhythm so they could both get used to the sensation. As he got more confident in his movements, he started pulling out further and pushing back in faster, encouraged by the sounds Billy was making.

 

Billy moved the hand that wasn’t holding onto Steve down to grasp at his own cock so he could jerk himself in time with Steve’s thrusts.

 

Steve grabbed the leg on his waist and hitched it up higher, changing the angle of his thrusts and drawing out another loud noise from Billy. He continued thrusting as Billy’s noises got more and more desperate and the hand on his cock started moving faster and faster, out of time with Steve’s thrusts, as he chased his own climax.

 

With a gasp, Billy arched up off the bed, his hand stilling and his hole clenching around Steve as he came. He moaned loudly, his grip on Steve’s shoulder turning almost painful as come splashed up his chest.

 

Steve continued thrusting, fucking him through it, chasing release. He picked up his pace, moving faster and harder as he felt himself getting closer. Billy was limp on the bed, letting Steve take what he needed until finally, Steve followed him over the edge, thrusting into Billy a final time and staying there as he felt his cock pulse.

 

With a groan, he pulled out. He lowered Billy’s leg to the bed and carefully moved off of him. He pressed a quick kiss to Billy’s lax mouth before getting off the bed and heading towards the bathroom.

 

“Where are you going?” Billy asked, his voice tired and come-dumb.

 

“I gotta clean you off. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

 

When he got to the bathroom, he realized he had no idea where Billy kept his rags or washcloths. For lack of a better option, he took the hand towel hanging near the sink and ran it under some water before heading back into the bedroom.

 

He quickly wiped off the two of them before throwing the towel on the floor and climbing back into the bed. Billy immediately wrapped his arms around him and rearranged the two of them until they were almost as entwined as they had been on the couch, despite how much bigger the bed was. Steve didn’t mind. 

 

They both settled in and let sleep take them as they drifted off, happy and sated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'M SO SORRY this update has taken so much longer than usual. I haven't been responding to comments either, I swear I read them all and they mean so much to me and I appreciate every single one!
> 
> Updates are probably gonna continue to be slower than they were as I move into end of the semester/finals hell, but I'll do my best.


	11. Chapter 11

It was still dark when Billy woke and the clock on the nightstand told him it was a little passed 4 am. He’d been able to fall asleep with little difficulty the night before, something he was grateful for, but his dreams had been chaotic as usual and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest while half remembered images of jungles and gunfire faded into the walls of Steve’s bedroom. 

 

Steve was tucked against his chest, still asleep, apparently undisturbed by whatever plagued Billy in his sleep. Billy stroked a gentle hand up and down Steve’s back as he settled back into the mattress and willed his heartbeat to slow down. He’d been tired the previous night, tired in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. 

 

Now though, he knew he’d have trouble falling back asleep. If he’d been alone, at his own place, he would have left the bed and either tried to pass the time in another way or relocate to the floor. But he wasn’t alone and he wasn’t at his own place. And while he didn’t think Steve would mind if he used the TV for a few hours by himself, he didn’t want Steve to wake up to an empty bed. Steve was more aware than most people of the problems Billy dealt with, but there were still some things, like how often he slept on the floor, that he didn’t want Steve to know about.

 

Steve had been great, so far, in dealing with Billy’s idiosyncrasies and learning to work around them. Billy was extremely thankful for that, but he still felt bad whenever something came up that he couldn’t deal with and he was still embarrassed by a lot of the things he couldn’t do and tried his best to work through any issues he was having without having to let Steve know. 

 

He knew that if they kept this up, Steve would eventually witness a worse nightmare. It didn’t make much sense to be embarrassed about it, considering the first time they’d met he’d been in the middle of panic attack, but he wanted to prove, to himself as well as Steve, that he wasn’t normally like that. That he could function like a normal person. It was proving to be more difficult than he’d thought. 

 

Case in point, the situation at hand. Steve probably wouldn’t wake for hours and Billy probably wouldn’t fall back asleep. He considered moving, but Steve made a soft noise as soon as he shifted slightly and Billy didn’t want to risk waking him. He resigned himself to staring at the ceiling for a few more hours.

 

If nothing else, the company was better than it usually was when he spent his nights awake.

 

* * *

 

Billy managed to drift in and out for another few hours, never quite managing to fall asleep and he still felt tired when the clock finally read 6:30 am. He knew he’d have to leave soon so he’d have time to return to his own apartment before going work, but he was still loathe to leave Steve alone with an empty bed. 

 

Carefully, he pulled himself out of Steve’s limp hold and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He grimaced at the stiffness he’d learned to associate with early mornings and managed to slowly make his way to the bathroom, his limp more pronounced than usual. He relieved himself, rinsed taste of morning breath from his mouth, and began the collecting his clothes from the day before off the floor. 

 

Steve must have noticed something was happening because he made a confused noise and looked up from the pillow. His eyes were still half closed and his hair was falling in his face in a way that was almost comical. Billy felt his chest seize up at the sight of him.

 

“Where’re you going?” He asked, his voice soft from sleep.

 

“I gotta go to work. You can still sleep.” He approached the bed and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Steve’s head. Steve collapsed back into the pillow, clearly still tired.

 

“I’ll miss you,” he mumbled, barely intelligible, “call me tonight when you get off.”

 

“I will,” Billy promised.  

 

Steve mumbled something incomprehensible into the pillow and Billy couldn’t fight back a smile as he ran his fingers through Steve’s hair one last time before turning to leave. He pulled on his shoes from where he’d left them and made sure the door latched behind him. 

 

The hallway was empty and quiet, which made sense considering it was still early, even for people with 9-5 jobs. He pressed the button to call the elevator leaned against the wall as he waited for the doors to open. He was surprised when the elevator car that arrived wasn’t empty. Inside was a mean looking older man and a large dog held tightly on a leash. 

 

The man immediately reminded Billy of both his father and and several of the commanding officers he’d encountered in the army. It was not a pleasant feeling. Before he even registered what he was doing he pushed himself away from the wall and stood up straighter, waiting for the man to pass.

 

But instead of going down the hall to his door, the man stepped out of the elevator and stopped in front of Billy, looking him up and down.

 

“Never seen you before,” he observed, gruffly, “you just move in?”

 

“No,” Billy answered, just managing to bite back the ‘sir’ that almost came out as a reflex. “I was just staying with a friend.” A part of him knew he didn’t owe a stranger an explanation of what he was doing, but he didn’t want to cause any problems with Steve’s neighbors and he hoped the bland answer would be enough.

 

Evidently, it wasn’t.

 

“A friend? You’re not one of those dirty hippies in 3G, are you?” He gave Billy another once over, before answering his own question, “No, you don’t really look it.”

 

Billy vaguely remembered Steve telling him about the small commune living at the end of the hall, but he’d never met any of them himself. As a general rule, Billy didn’t get along with hippies, but he would have given almost anything if he could have run into one of them instead of this guy.

 

Billy considered just pushing passed him instead of responding, but the elevator doors had already closed and he would have had to wait again and he didn’t like his chances if the guy decided to get aggressive, especially with the dog at his heels. 

 

“No, my friend lives here alone.” he answered, “3B,” He tacked on at the last second.

 

“3B,” the guy muttered more to himself than Billy. Recognition dawned on his face and Billy really wanted to leave before he said anything else. He made the decision to try and get away and moved around the man and his dog, giving them both a wide berth. The button lit up under his finger and silently begged for the doors to open quickly.

 

“A bit early to be skipping out on your friend, isn’t it?” Billy wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but something in the man’s tone put him on edge.

 

“I have to go to work,” he said through his teeth. 

 

“That’s good. A man should be a hard worker. Earn money, settle down.”

 

“That’s the plan,” Billy responded, refusing to turn around. He didn’t like having a threat behind him, but he was hoping that whatever this guy’s problem was, that he wasn’t crazy enough to attack Billy in the middle of the hallway. Billy recognized the feeling of his body bracing for an attack as his heart rate picked up and adrenaline surged. It was irrational, he knew, the guy hadn’t actually done anything overtly threatening. 

 

Finally, the doors slid open and Billy entered the car. The doors shut behind him before the man could answer and Billy immediately felt himself relax. His hands still shook from the adrenaline, but with the doors closed and the elevator going down he was able to relax his muscles and take a breathe.

 

* * *

 

The drive home was uneventful and Billy arrived at his place with just enough time to eat something and change into his jumpsuit.

 

His apartment was just as he’d left it, drab and silent. He’d been spending so much time around Steve lately that whenever he went home, his own apartment seemed almost unbearably empty. But he didn’t have time to dwell on that. 

 

He changed his clothes and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He ran a hand over his head, feeling how long his hair had gotten. It’d been longer between trims than he usually allowed and it was beginning to feel less like stubble and felt softer, like the hair he remembered having, but hadn’t seen in years. 

 

He considered trimming it then, but decided against it. He didn’t have the time, and it wasn’t really that important anyway.

 

* * *

 

His unusual sleeping habits had gained him a reputation at the garage for always being the first one to arrive. There was only so much he could do to kill time at home, so days when he woke up too early-or never fell asleep to begin with-he would head to work early, sometimes even arriving before the boss had a chance to unlock the doors, forcing him to wait in his car.

 

That wasn’t the case this morning. He pulled up out front a little before eight, perfectly on time by anyone else’s standards, but noticeably late by his own. He was not the first person there, in fact, both overhead doors were already open and several guys were already working. His uncharacteristic lateness did not go unnoticed as he approached the garage. 

 

“Good morning, Hargrove,” one of the guys, Rick, called out, “We were getting worried about you.”

 

Rick was an annoying man, a few years Billy’s senior. Billy avoided him because he tended to be loud and careless with his movements, two things that did not mix well with Billy. Billy didn’t know much about Rick, other than frequent talk about girls he’d met and the same story several times about medical issues that never seemed to affect his day to day life, but had disqualified him from military service. 

 

Billy tried to contain his eyeroll. He really didn’t feel like dealing with two jackasses in one morning. 

 

“I’m perfectly on time.”

 

“For a normal person, maybe. But sometimes it seems like you sleep here. Even beating the boss in the mornings.” He jerked his head towards the front office where their boss stayed at his desk all day. “Just wanna make you’re alright, Billy-boy.”

 

“I’m fine,” Billy answered, settling down carefully next to the car he’d been working on for the past few days. “Had a late night.” He instantly regretted saying that when it was met with loud whistles from some of the guys and an obnoxious laugh from Rick. 

 

“I didn’t think you had in you, Hargrove. What’s her name?”

 

“It’s not like that man. And don’t you have something else you should be doing? Or are you finally ready admit you don’t know how to fix jack shit?”

 

“No need to get so defensive. I just thought we could trade stories because I’ve gotta tell someone about this foxy little thing I pulled the other night.”

 

Billy couldn’t think of anything he’d enjoy less than listening to Rick talk about whatever unlucky woman he’d just met and he even briefly considered letting Rick know that he’d rather get shot again than hear that story. In the end, he decided to keep his mouth shut and focus on working, allowing everyone else’s voices to fade into the background. 

 

At least until someone said his name again.

 

“What?” he asked, not even trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

 

“Just letting you know, any time you want some help picking up, I’m your guy. I could give you some tips on how to really drive the ladies wild.” Some of the other guys laughed and Billy just snorted, not even looking up from what he was working on. 

 

“If I ever sink so low I’m considering coming to you for advice on anything, I’ll just step in front of a bus and save us both the time. But thanks.”

 

“Oh, that hurts. It really does. I just wanna make sure you’re not spending all your time alone,” he paused for a moment, an exaggerated expression of thoughtfulness on his face, “Well, I guess you’re not completely alone. You’ve got friends. Or at least, you’ve got one friend. Is that who you spent your late night with? Your boy who brings you lunch?”

 

Billy felt the same feeling from earlier that morning return. He put down the tools he was holding so he wouldn’t damage anything while he tried to control his breathing and make sure his voice came out as steady as possible. 

 

“What I did last night is none of your business.” The rest of the guys had quieted down as they seemed to realize this was no longer just banter between coworkers. “I know the concept of friends is difficult for you, since no one can stand to be around you for that long, but who I hang out with really doesn’t concern you.”

 

Rick looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead huffed out a laugh and just said, “Whatever, man. You ever get that stick out your ass, let us know. That way we’ll know it’s safe to talk to you again.”

 

As the two of them finally returned to their work, the rest of the garage did as well, trying to pretend that they hadn’t all been fully engaged in what had just occurred.

 

Billy threw himself into his work, ignoring everyone else around him, resolving to finish and be able to leave without having to talk to anymore of his coworkers. He was mostly successful as everyone seemed to sense his bad mood and chose not to try and engage him. Finally, after a day that seemed to drag on for far to long he was able to leave and go home. 

 

* * *

 

He kicked his boots off as soon as the door shut behind him. He unzipped his jumpsuit and stepped out of it, hanging it over the back of one of his kitchen chairs, leaving him in his undershirt and boxers. 

 

The phone cord was just long enough that he could comfortable sit at the table while holding the phone. Dialing Steve’s number from memory had become a staple part of his evening, as had Steve answering on the first or second ring, as if he’d been waiting for the call. 

 

“Billy?”

 

“Hey, Steve.” Billy felt himself relax, letting out the tension he’d been carrying since he first left Steve’s apartment that morning. 

 

“How are you? How was work?”

 

Billy considered telling Steve about what had happened at work as well as what had happened that morning, but decided against it. Nothing had really happened. Just words. And he didn’t want to upset Steve over nothing.

 

“Work was fine. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.”

 

“It’s okay, I knew you had to leave. I am a little annoyed you woke me up, though.”

 

Billy laughed, “I couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye. But don’t worry next time I’ll leave you to wake up all alone.” 

 

“That’s fine with me, as long as I don’t have to wake up before 7 am again.” They both laughed. “Oh, and I have tell you what happened today, We had this customer, Billy, I swear, the guy was crazy,” Billy relaxed into the chair listening as Steve told his story. 

 

It might not have been the best day, but now he was safe at home with Steve rambling on through the phone and Billy was content knowing that things could definitely have been a lot worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! Thank you all for being patient. Please enjoy some plot to follow your porn.


	12. Chapter 12

A few days later, the two of them were sharing a small table at a cafe down the street from Steve’s apartment. They had planned on spending the night inside, but Billy was having a rare good day and they’d decided to venture out of the apartment for dinner. The place wasn’t too crowded and the other patrons were talking quietly amongst themselves. Nothing about the setting was stressful and even Billy was able relax, though he still needed to sit with his back to the wall. 

 

Perhaps most important, the atmosphere of the place was very casual. At a fancier restaurant, two people sharing a table would automatically scream  _ this is a date _ . The cafe, however, was low-key enough that their dinner could easily be passed off as a meeting between friends. Billy hadn’t told Steve about either encounter he’d had a few days prior, not wanting to cause any worry. But since then, he’d been more aware of how they acted around each other, especially in public. 

 

Steve was sitting across from him, complaining about a customer he’d dealt with earlier in the day; “I really don’t know what’s wrong with some people. You read the menu, you order something. It’s not my fault if you don’t like it, you should have ordered something else.”

 

Billy wasn’t paying much attention to his words. He’d head similar stories almost every day from Steve; being a waiter gave him no shortage of infuriating people to deal with. It always served to remind Billy how thankful he should be for the way most people trusted his authority on what was wrong with their car without question. 

 

Usually when Steve told a long story like this, Billy would space out a little and find himself admiring Steve’s face as he spoke, rather than listening to what he  was actually saying. Now, he was making a more conscious effort the control his gaze, to keep the soft, love-struck look off his face. 

 

“You know,” he interrupted Steve’s story, “If you hate your job this much, you can always get a new one. It’s not exactly like you’re desperate for cash.” The first time Billy had gone over to Steve’s apartment, he’d been amazed at how nice it was, surprised that he could afford it working as a waiter. Steve had blushed, clearly embarrassed and mumbled out the explanation that his parents still helped with his expenses, even though he was well into his twenties.

 

“I don’t  _ hate _ it, it’s just,” he sighed, “people are just really stupid sometimes.”

 

Billy laughed; the expression on Steve’s face was so serious, like he was truly lamenting how dumb some of his customers were.

 

“And besides, it’s not all bad.” He gave Billy a significant look. “If I hadn’t been at that restaurant, I would have never met you.” Billy felt his cheeks flush and he looked down at the plate in front of him, fiddling with his crumpled napkin. He wanted to reach across the table and take Steve’s hand, but he also knew he couldn’t. He looked back up at Steve so their eyes could meet and he saw the same expression on Steve’s face that he was trying so hard to keep off his own. 

 

“I,” he hesitated, “I think we should ask for the check. Head back upstairs.” He tried to keep his tone light, not let Steve know he was nervous being out in public. It must have worked, because Steve just smiled at him and waved over their server. 

 

After paying, they went back up to Steve’s apartment and Billy held his breath during the short walk from the elevator bank to his front door. It was unlikely that they’d run into Steve’s neighbor again, but the prospect still made him nervous. 

 

Steve closed the door behind them and Billy felt the tension seep out of his shoulders. “Steve,” he started, before Steve cut him off with his lips. His hands automatically went to Steve’s hips and pulled him closer. Steve deepened the kiss and pressed Billy up against the door and as much as Billy was enjoying it, he also really wanted to sit down.

 

“Steve,” he said again. Steve hummed in acknowledgment and pulled away from Billy’s lips only to move down to his neck. “We should,” he swallowed down a groan as Steve found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, “we should move this to the couch.”

 

Steve pulled away and grabbed Billy’s hand, leading him passed the entryway and into the living room. Billy had to let go of Steve’s hand so he could settle himself softly on the couch. He expected Steve to join him, but instead he lowered himself to the ground in front of Billy and gently pushed his leg apart.

 

Billy ran a hand through Steve’s hair as his hands moved to undo the button and zipper of Billy’s jeans. Steve used one hand to rub Billy through his boxers while simultaneously lifting himself high enough to capture Billy’s lips again. Billy broke the kiss to let out a moan as Steve’s hand ventured under the waistband of his boxers and his hand wrapped around the bare skin of his cock.

 

Steve lowered himself back to the floor so he was kneeling between Billy’s legs. He carefully pulled the jeans and boxers down his legs, helping Billy lift his bad leg so they could get the clothes out of the way without causing any damage. 

 

When Billy had settled back into the couch, he was naked from the waist down with Steve between his legs. Steve leaned forward to lave at the head of his cock with his tongue while gripping the base with his right hand while his left ran up Billy’s thigh and passed his hip to push his shirt up his chest. Billy’s had moved back to Steve’s hair, gripping, but not controlling his movement. 

Steve moved forward, taking more of Billy’s cock into his mouth and Billy’s hand tightened reflexively in his hair. Billy moaned loudly as Steve began bobbing his head up and down. He couldn’t take Billy in too deep before his gag reflex started acting up, but he used his hand to work to lower part of Billy’s cock that he couldn’t fit in his mouth. It wasn’t the most skilled blow job Billy had ever received, but it was still wet and hot around his cock and Steve looked beautiful crouched between his knees. 

 

It wasn’t long before he could feel his orgasm building and he tightened his grip in Steve’s hair and tried to pull him off. Steve just looked up at him questioningly without letting up.

 

“I’m close,” he managed to gasp out, “I’m gonna come.”

 

Steve raised an eyebrow and him and pulled off just long enough to say, “Then you should let me finish, shouldn’t you?” And before Billy could say anything else, he lowered his mouth back to Billy’s erection.

 

There was no stopping now and Billy’s hips pushed forward as the pressure in his lower body built more and more. His fingers tangled even more in Steve’s hair as he couldn’t help put pull him a little further down as he came. He let out a loud moan, his whole body tensing before going completely lax. 

 

Steve finally pulled off him, wiping a hand across his mouth, panting almost as hard as Billy was. Billy pulled him up until Steve was braced over him on the couch and their lips could meet again. Billy kissed him deeply, tasting himself in Steve’s mouth.

 

Steve’s own erection was pressing against the front of his pants in way that had to be uncomfortable. Billy reached down with both hands to quickly open Steve’s pants and pull his cock out. He pulled away from Steve’s lips just long enough to bring his hand up to his own mouth. Gathering saliva on his tongue, he licked a broad stripe up his palm, getting his hand nice and wet before he brought it back to Steve’s cock. 

 

He could feel it jump in his hand as he wasted no time in jerking it in a firm grasp. Steve gasped against his mouth and it wasn’t long before he was thrusting forward into Billy’s hand. With a loud gasp, Steve came in Billy’s hand, splattering his chest. Both their chests were heaving and their warm breath mingled in the space between them. 

 

Steve rested his head on Billy’s shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, damp breath tickling the bare skin. Billy ran a gentle hand up and down Steve’s back in soothing circles. After a moment, Steve caught his breath and without moving he mumble into Billy’s neck,

 

“We should go to bed.”

 

Billy didn’t respond for a moment, but when Steve made no move to get off he prodded him gently in the side, “You’re gonna have to get up if you want to go to bed.”

 

With an exaggerated groan, Steve carefully pulled himself off Billy’s lap. He took a second to adjust himself and stretch out his limbs before offering Billy a hand and pulling him up from the couch. Just as Steve had led him to the couch, he now used his grip on Billy’s hand to pull him to the bedroom. 

 

Steve left him on the bed while he went to the bathroom for a damp towel to clean them both off with. Billy pulled off his shirt and crawled under the covers naked. After a moment, Steve followed suit and curled up next to him.

 

It was still pretty early, but the two of them had worn themselves out and they had no trouble falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

Billy woke the next morning before the alarm went off. He and Steve were still tangled together and he carefully extricated himself so he could make it to the bathroom without disturbing him. When he was done in the bathroom, he picked his shirt up from the end of the bed and wandered back out into the living room to gather the rest of his clothes from where they’d left them by the couch. He hadn’t planned on spending the night and he didn’t have anything else to wear.

 

As he was pulling his jeans on, he heard footsteps coming from the bedroom. Steve emerged now in boxers and a t-shirt, his hair a mess, and his eyes squinting against the light from the large windows. 

 

“You have to go?” He asked, his voice raspy from sleep.

 

“Yeah,” Billy said, approaching him. “You should go back to bed. You got mad at me last time I got you up early.”

 

“Heard you leaving. Wanted to-” he was interrupted by a yawn, “wanted to say goodbye.”

 

Billy was overcome by a sense of such strong fondness that it felt almost painful, clenching in his chest. “Well, you’ve said goodbye. Now, go back to sleep; you look like you’re about to collapse.”

 

Steve nodded sleepily, “I can stop by today,” he said. “Bring you lunch.”

 

Billy felt himself freeze. All the soft, laziness of the morning was replaced immediately by panic.

 

“I, I don’t think,” he hesitated and thought for a moment, “You don’t have to,” he finally finished. 

 

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” Steve was looking at him strangely. “Do you not want me to?”

 

“Of course I do. It’s just,” he let out a sigh. “When we first started this,” he gestured between the two of them, “we knew it wouldn’t be easy, that we’d have to be careful in public.”

 

“What happened?” Steve asked, suddenly seeming much more awake.

 

“Nothing. Just some of the guys from the garage. They noticed you coming around a lot. noticed how much time we spent together. I think they were just teasing, but,” he looked away from Steve, unable to meet his eyes, “It’s probably best if you don’t come around too much. In case they’re really suspicious.”

 

He hadn’t wanted to tell Steve about any of this, especially not like this, not early in the morning in his home where they were supposed to be safe.

 

“Oh,” he said softly. “That makes sense, I guess. I won’t then. Stop by. I won’t stop by.”

 

Billy forced himself to look Steve in the eye again and what he saw was heartbreaking. They’d both known in theory how dangerous their relationship could be, but this was the first time they’d had to really acknowledge it, the first time it was really impacting how they acted.

 

“I’m sorry,” Billy said, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for. 

 

“It’s okay. Like you said, we both knew this wouldn’t be easy.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly for a moment. “You should go, you don’t want to be late.”

 

“Yeah,” Billy made an abortive movement towards the door, before turning back to Steve. “I’ll call you later?”

 

Steve smiled softly, “Sounds good.” Billy smiled back at him for a moment before forcing himself to leave.

 

He was so thrown off by their conversation, he forgot to even be nervous until he was waiting for the elevator doors to open. Luckily, the car was empty and he was able to make it down to his car without being interrupted. 

 

He made a quick stop at his own apartment to change his clothes before getting back in his car to drive to work. 

 

One of the benefits of going to sleep so early, whether he meant to or not, was that he had woken up early and was able to make it the garage early. The owner was already there so he was able to enter through the front door and open the garage doors from the inside. None of the other mechanics were there yet.

 

He got right to work, ignoring most of the other guys as they starting trickling in a little later. He focused on the work in front of him, refusing to acknowledge any of them. They seemed to sense he was in a bad mood and none of them made any effort to interact with him.

 

It was their fault, he thought to himself. It was their fault Steve was upset, it was their fault the two of them had to be careful when they were together, and it was their fault they couldn’t even eat lunch together without fear. 

 

He took a deep breath when he felt his temper rising. It had been a long time since he’d lost control of his anger. The violent outbursts he’d been prone to as a teenager were one of the earliest habits to have been beaten out of him during basic and he really didn’t want to do anything he’d regret. 

 

Taking a few moments to calm himself, he settled down and resumed working. 

 

They weren’t worth getting angry about and getting angry and doing something stupid wasn’t worth potentially losing his job. 

 

It’ll be fine, he told himself. It had to be fine. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.  
> I know it's been super long. I'm sorry and I swear I will have this story finished by the end of January if it kills me.


	13. Chapter 13

Sometimes, Steve missed being in high school. Sure, some of it had sucked, but for the most part, it had been uncomplicated. Everyday, he’d known where to go, what to do, and he was rarely surprised. Even that first year after he’d graduated hadn’t been much of a change. If anything, it had somehow been even less complicated. With no school work to be done and no real need for him to get a job, he’d been left with a lot of time and very few responsibilities. 

 

He was currently trying to explain this to Nancy as the two of them sat on her couch, a bottle of wine approaching empty on the coffee table between them. 

 

“It was just easier, you know?”

 

She raised her eyebrows at him, hiding a partial smirk behind the rim of her glass, “And what, exactly, makes your life so difficult now?”

 

He opened his mouth to respond before stopping and closing it again. How could he explain that his life was complicated because he had somehow found himself with a boyfriend and it had just recently made clear how problematic that was.

 

He took a sip from his own glass, “I’m just...struggling.”

 

“Struggling?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

She looked at him, clearly expecting some kind of elaboration. When none was forthcoming, she sighed and reached for the bottle to top off her glass, finishing the bottle in the process. “You always did have a way with words, Steve.”

 

“It’s not that important, really. I just need to figure something out.”

 

“And you’re sure it’s nothing I can help with?”

 

Taking a large sip, he tried to buy himself some time to figure out a way to explain his problem without giving too much away. He loved Nancy, maybe not the way he used to, but he still considered her one of his closest friends. And yet.

 

He was worried about her reaction, should she find out about the true nature of his relationship with Billy. He hadn’t really given much thought to telling her-or anyone, for that matter-but he had been ignoring the realities of his and Billy’s relationship for too long now. Billy telling him not to stop by the garage had been like a slap to the face, but maybe it was what they needed, if they were being so careless people were already starting to notice there was something unusual about their ‘friendship.’

 

“Don’t worry about it, Nance. It’s just me being dumb.”

 

She gave him a look like she didn’t believe him, but she seemed willing to let it go, for a little while at least. “If you say so.” She took another sip from her glass, “By the way, how’s your friend? He was pretty messed up last I saw him and you haven’t mentioned him since. Billy, right?”

 

Steve really hoped his reaction wasn’t showing on his face. So much for letting it go. And she didn’t even realize what she was asking!

 

“He’s doing better,” he answered carefully. “Episodes like that, they happen sometimes, but they’re rarely that bad. He’s been pretty good lately.”

 

“Do you see each other a lot?”

 

He knew she was just making conversation, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was being interrogated. How much could he reveal before she started getting suspicious? Would she ever become suspicious or was he just being paranoid? Would she even care if she found out? There was only one way to know for sure, but he wasn’t willing to risk it.

 

“Not too often,” he lied. “When we both have a day off we’ll get together.” That last part was true, but it didn’t really do justice to how much time they spent together or how much they spoke over the phone either. 

 

“And you’re sure that’s a good idea?”

 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He asked, trying to keep some of the harshness out of his tone as well as the fear that he’d been discovered.

 

“You’ve heard the same stories and read the same reports that I have, Steve. You know what soldiers are doing over there. Can you really look passed all that and be friends with someone who’s killed people?”

 

“It’s not that simple and you know it.” He put his glass down on the coffee table, avoiding looking at her while he gathered his thoughts. “There are soldiers over there doing awful things, I know that. And the U.S. shouldn’t even be there to begin with and you know I’m more than ready to protest our involvement. But it doesn’t seem right to blame every soldier for what the government is making them do.”

 

“And you’re okay with being around him, knowing that he’s killed people? Regardless of why he did it, Steve, he’s taken people’s lives.”

 

“I know that.”

 

Truthfully, it was something he struggled with. Billy had never been anything but sweet towards him; he was handsome and funny and Steve liked spending time with him and he’d seen Billy at some of his most vulnerable moments. But he also knew that somewhere underneath the Billy that Steve knew, there was a soldier, trained to and fully capable of killing people. Steve had to remind himself that the situation Billy had been in wasn’t his fault. Hell, it was mostly luck that Steve himself hadn’t been forced to fight, at least not yet, and he had no idea how he would react or what kind of person he’d become if someone put a gun in his hand and told him to shoot.

 

“I know that,” he said again, “But he’s not a murderer. He didn’t do it because he wanted to and he’s not dangerous. He was a kid when he signed up, he didn’t know what he was getting into, and now,” he trailed off, thinking of what he could say that wouldn’t come off as strange or too intense to just just be describing a friend.

 

“And now he’s a good person. Someone I care about,” he flinched slightly as the words left his mouth, hoping that he wasn’t overdoing it, “And maybe I can’t look passed what he’s done, but I can get passed it. Does that make sense?”

 

“Not really. How is getting passed something any different than looking passed it?”

 

“I guess I mean that I’m not just ignoring it. I know what he’s done, so I’m not looking passed it. But I also know that that’s not all he is and I’m okay with moving on and getting along with the rest of him.”

 

She looked ready to argue for a second before sighing and relaxing back into the couch. “I’m not sure I could do that, but I guess it’s not my place to tell you who you can and cannot be friends with, is it?” She glanced at him, smirking, “And maybe I should just be glad you’re finally making your own friends. I was worried for a while there that you’d just be following Jon and I around for the rest of our lives.”

 

It took him a moment to register that she was making a joke and when he did he reached over to playfully shove her, laughing. He recognized it as her way of both extending an olive branch and of tactfully changing the conversation topic.

 

“And speaking of,” he asked, “where is Jonathan? It’s a little late to still be out”

 

“He’ll probably be here soon. He’s been working weird hours lately; he gets to sleep in, but he doesn’t get home ‘til late. Did you want to stick around for dinner? I’m sure he’d hate to hear he missed you.”

 

“Sure, I’ll stay. Apparently I don’t have many friends so it’s not like I have anywhere else to be.” They both laughed.

 

The conversation may have gotten awkward there for a minute, but Steve was glad he’d come over. If nothing else, it had gotten his mind off of what was originally bothering him and he was able to forget-or at least ignore-for a little while, the dangers of his new relationship.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Steve stumbled through his front door a little tipsier than he had planned on getting. He had wound up staying for dinner and dinner had involved another few glasses of wine.

 

He struggled out of his shoes and jacket and left them where they landed rather than try and put anything away. Part of him was tempted to simply collapse and go to sleep, but another part of him, the part that won out, was determined to talk to Billy before he went to bed. 

 

It was a little too late to be calling someone and part of Steve’s alcohol-weakened brain was selfishly glad that Billy didn’t sleep much if it meant he’d be awake to pick up the phone. 

 

He yanked the phone of its base and punched in the number he’d now memorized. It rang just long enough that Steve was worried he wouldn’t pick up, but just before he conceded defeat and put the phone down, the ringing stopped and he heard a soft,

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi Billy.”

 

“Steve?”

 

“Who else?” He heard Billy snort down the line and he let out a little chuckle himself.

 

“Do you know what time it is, Steve?”

 

“Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you. And you told me not to come by the garage anymore.” He hadn’t meant for it to sound as whiny as it did, but it was too late to take it back. Billy was silent for a moment before answering.

 

“Steve, you know why I told you that. It’s dangerous-”

 

“I know, I know. Doesn’t mean I like it. And besides, even if I had stopped by, I’d still want to talk to you again because I always want to talk to you because I like you, Billy.”

 

That got a genuine laugh, “I like you too, Steve. Is there anything in particular you called to tell me, or did you just miss the sound of my voice?”

 

“Mostly your voice.” Steve was vaguely aware that he’d be embarrassed by that when he was sober, but in the moment, he wasn’t too concerned. “I had dinner with Nancy tonight and we talked about you.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah, I didn’t tell her anything about us, don’t worry. I just like you a lot and I like talking about you.”

 

“Mhmm, and during this dinner with Nancy, did you happen to drink anything?”

 

“Maybe. We might have drank some wine.”

 

“I figured. You should go to bed, Steve.”

 

“I will, soon, just, when will we see each other again?”

 

He heard a soft sigh down the line, “Soon. Maybe tomorrow, once we’re both off from work. I’ll call you, okay? Now drink some water and go to sleep.”

 

“You promise you’ll call?”

 

“Promise.”

 

“Okay. Good night, Billy.”

 

“Night, Steve.”

 

* * *

 

The overhead doors were already closed and most of the guys had long since given up the pretense of actually doing work. Billy himself was simply biding his time until he could get in his car and go home. It hadn’t been a particularly grueling day at work, but he was anxious to talk to Steve again.

 

They’d left things in a weird place and hadn’t seen each other since that awkward morning when Billy had been forced to tell Steve not to come see him at work. It felt like the two of them should have some kind of serious talk, but he wasn’t sure where to start. There wasn’t anything either of them could say that would change their situation. 

 

Well.

 

That wasn’t entirely true. 

 

Ending their relationship and going their separate ways would definitely end the scrutiny, but Billy refused to consider that as anything other than absolute last resort. 

 

After hanging his grease-stained jumpsuit in a locker, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt. He’d started bringing a change of clothes to work, rather than just coming and going in his jumpsuit, a consequence of spending some nights with Steve. When he only ever went between his own place and work, he had little need for clothes that could be worn outside of those two places. Spending time with Steve meant he sometimes had to look presentable to go out and it also meant that he sometimes wanted to look nice for no other reason than he liked how Steve looked at him. 

 

The locker next to him was slammed shut and he grit his teeth against the loud noise. Closing his own locker quietly, he turned towards the door, ignoring chatter about some of them going to a bar down the street together. It may have been made while he was drunk, but Billy intended to keep his promise to Steve and call him as soon as he was able. 

 

The streets were relatively empty and it wasn’t long before he arrived home. He went through his usual routine of lining up his shoes neatly by the door and and hanging up his jacket before going to the kitchen to pick up his phone. He dialed Steve’s number and settled into a chair waiting for him to pick up.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi Steve.”

 

“Hi Billy.”

 

They were both silent for a moment with nothing but their breathing echoing through the phones. 

 

Steve was the first to crack. “I’m sorry about last night. I normally wouldn’t call so late, I got a little more drunk at dinner than I meant to.”

 

Billy felt a smile tug at his lips as he remembered it. “It’s fine, Steve. I was awake anyway.” He wasn’t mad about the phone call, but he was a little disappointed he didn’t get to see Steve drunk in person. He imagined his cheeks would flush pink and if the phone call was anything to go by, he probably got very affectionate when he was drunk. 

 

“Still, I don’t want to bother you. I just missed you, I guess. And normally I would have been fine, but, like I said, I was a blitzed.”

 

“It’s really fine. But I am curious, you said you got drunk while you had dinner with Nancy and that the two of you talked about me.”

 

“We did,” Billy could hear the embarrassment creeping into his voice. “She asked me how you were doing because, you know, the last time she saw you was, you know, with the-”

 

“I remember.”

 

“Yeah, so, I told her you were doing better.”

 

“And that’s all?”

 

His question was met with silence, so he asked again, “Steve, you still there?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Was that all?”

 

“Listen, Billy,” he said, instead of answering, “it really doesn’t matter what else she said. Don’t you want to talk about something else?”

 

So she had said something. Billy had a feeling he knew what their conversation had been about. “Let me guess, she tell you to stop hanging out with the baby-killer? Try to bring you back to your sense?” Again he got no response and this time, getting annoyed, he said sharply into the receiver, “Come one, Steve. Let me hear it.” He didn't know why he was suddenly itching for a fight, but it was like something inside him snapped and needed something to take it out on.

 

“You shouldn’t have to hear it,” he answered finally and Billy couldn’t help but laugh at that.

 

“Steve, I was in an American airport for five minutes before someone spit at me. I think I can handle hearing what your little friend has to say about me.” 

 

“Okay, fine!” Steve yelled back at him, temper finally getting the best of both of them. “Yes, she wanted to know how I could stand to be friends with a killer. How I could be around you knowing what you’ve done!”

 

Billy could feel the blood rushing through his veins, adrenaline surging as his body braced for a fight. “And what did you say to her? Huh? What did you say?” His hands were shaking as he refused to give in to his body's instincts to run or fight. He stayed sitting, desperately trying to control his breathing.

 

“I told her it didn’t matter what you’d done, you massive prick! God, I thought we’d already covered this, but here you are coming all unglued over it. I like you, okay? Not in spite of who you were, but because of who you are now.”

 

Billy felt his breath hitch and he moved the received away from his face, hoping Steve wouldn’t hear it. 

 

“God, Billy, what’re you mad at me for? These last few weeks haven’t been enough of a hint that I don’t care? You’ve never tried to hide what you did or what you were, why do you think I would suddenly change my mind now?”

 

“I just, I,” Billy nervously twisted the phone cord around in his hand. “Could I come over?” He asked, instead of trying to answer. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me to, but I want to talk to you. In person.”

 

There was silence for just a beat too long and he was about to say something else when Steve finally answered, “You can come.”

 

“Okay,” He said, standing up. “Okay. And Steve?”

 

“Yeah?”   
  


“I’m,” he swallowed passed the sudden tightness in his throat, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Just get over here.”

 

He nodded, even though he knew Steve couldn’t see him, “I’ll be right there.”

 

* * *

 

It occurred to him, briefly, that he maybe shouldn’t be driving in his current condition: hands still shaking, heart racing, and occasionally having to blink back tears, but he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of getting to Steve as fast as possible. 

 

He drove a little too fast to be safe and squeezed his car into the first available spot outside Steve’s building. He threw himself from his seat and and towards the front door so quickly his injured leg failed to support him and he almost wound up face down on the ground. 

 

He forced himself to slow down enough that he could make it Steve’s front door without hurting himself, but was unable to restrain himself from knocking forcefully on the door until Steve opened. 

 

He stood in the doorway looking wary and Billy shrunk under his gaze. The last thing he wanted to do was make Steve afraid of him.

 

“Hi” he said uncertainly. 

 

Steve didn’t say anything, but he backed away from the doorway, allowing Billy to enter. He took off his shoes and jacket before following Steve to the couch. They sat on opposite ends, facing each other, but refusing to make eye contact. Billy couldn’t help but think of the last time they’d been on that couch, how different it had been.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, at a loss for anything else. 

 

“You already said that.” They sat in silence for a moment before Steve threw his hands in the air, “What the hell, Billy?” He stood up from the couch, pacing around the room, clearly frustrated. 

 

“You call, you pick a fight with me, then you ask to come over, and now you don’t have anything to say for yourself? What’s your bag, man?”

 

“I didn’t,” he looked away from Steve’s angry gaze, “I didn’t mean to pick a fight with you.” Steve let out a disbelieving snort, but Billy pressed on. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just, I’m mad at this whole situation. I’m mad that we have to hide, that we can’t spend time together, that I had to upset you by telling you, and I’m mad that the only thing that would make these problems go away is if we ended this.”

 

Steve stopped pacing, staring at him. “Do you want to end this?” he asked, softly.

 

“God, no.” Billy finally looked up at him, begging.

 

“Then you can’t do that, Billy.” He sat back on the couch, closer than he was before. “You can’t just take it out on me when you’re upset.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“You already said that,” he said again, but this time there was a trace of a smile on his lips. He clasped both of Billy’s hands in his own and they both sat in silence for a moment as they collected himself. Finally, Steve broke the quiet.

 

“I accept you apology.”

 

“Thank you.” Billy looked up from their joint hands to meet Steve’s eyes. “And you meant what you said on the phone? That all of it,” he gestured vaguely towards himself, trying to somehow encompass his entire past, “it doesn’t matter?”

 

Steve looked like he was about to argue again, “Billy,” he began, in a warning tone.

 

“Obviously, I get that you’re here right now. That you’re okay with me being here right now. But I would understand if there were some things that made you uncomfortable or some things you’d prefer I didn’t talk about it.”

 

“Billy,” Steve began again, “I’m going to say this once, so make sure you understand it. I. Don’t. Care.” He cupped Billy’s face in his hands, forcing their eyes to meet. “Whatever you did over there, that wasn’t you. You were a kid, okay? A kid who saw no other option and the government took advantage of that and they gave you a gun and told you to go shoot other kids. You shouldn’t be proud of what you did over there, but you also don’t have to let it ruin the rest of your life.

 

I know you, okay? And you’re sweet and funny and you care about me and I care about you.” He pressed their foreheads together, “That’s what matters to me. And you don’t need to hide from me. If you need to talk about it, any of it, I’m here for you. You understand?” Billy nodded, not trusting his voice.

 

“Good. Now, come on,” he stood up from the couch. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired and it’s late.” He grabbed Billy’s hand and tugged him gently towards the bedroom.

 

Billy stood up, letting himself be pulled. The threat of the outside world still lingered at the edges of his thoughts, but hidden in the walls of Steve’s apartment, he allowed himself the moment to forget about everything else and be happy, unconcerned with the past or the future. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.
> 
>  
> 
> Just kidding, but we're getting there. This was actually written as two chapters, but I decided to post it as one in the interest of time. As always, thank you all for your support and for your kudos/comments; they mean the world to me <3


	14. Chapter 14

********

It was rare that their days off aligned, but when they did, they tried to make the most of it. There was still tension between them, but neither of them wanted to bring it up. Billy would rather avoid the ensuing fight and Steve was trying to avoid acknowledging the problem at all.

The weather was getting progressively warmer and it felt like a waste of a beautiful day to spend their time cooped up in one of their apartments. That feeling, of course, conflicted with their need to hide, so the list of places where they could spend time together was relatively small.

They found themselves at the park where they’d spent that first day together. It was big and crowded enough with groups of all sizes and all kinds of people that they felt safe enough blending in.

Unlike the first time, they’d brought a blanket to sit on and food so they could comfortably spend hours in each other’s company.

Steve was picking at what was left of the snacks they’d brought, while Billy was lying spread out on the ground. The sun was setting, turning the sky a soft pink and the voices around them had dulled into a gently rumble. It was the calmest Billy could remember feeling in public in a long time and he’d blame what he said next on how safe and relaxed the atmosphere was making him.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Why’d you move to California?”

“Didn’t I already tell you this? I finished high school and didn’t know where to go. I stuck around doing nothing in Hawkins for a while and when Nancy left for college, I went with her.”

“But did you ever actually want to live in California?”

Steve thought for a second before answering. “I wanted to get out of Hawkins. I guess it didn’t really matter where. This was just the first real opportunity I got. Why do you ask?”

Bill didn’t answer at first. Instead, he turned away from Steve to look up and the sky and watch the clouds move slowly above him.

“Hey,” Steve nudged him gently, “why’re you asking?”

“I was wondering how attached you are here. Because I, before I met you, I guess, I wasn’t sure if I was gonna stay here.”

Steve turned to face him fully, “What do you mean?”

“I grew up in California, not here, but California. The first return flight dropped me here and it wasn’t like I was gonna turn it down,” he chuckled softly, “I landed here and didn’t really have a reason to go anywhere else, so, here I am. While I was away, I couldn’t wait to come back. But now, I don’t know, everything’s different. I’m different. And I guess, here doesn’t really feel like home.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’re leaving?”

“Don’t know. Probably not.” He propped himself up on one elbow to better look at Steve, “Don’t really have anywhere to go, pretty boy, so you’re stuck with me.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have anywhere to go either. So I guess we’re stuck with each other.” Slowly, Steve slid his hand across the blanket to rest on top of Billy’s. Bill couldn’t help but let his eyes flick away from Steve’s briefly to make sure no one around them was watching too closely. No one was paying them any attention, so Billy wove their fingers together and lay back on the blanket.

“I think I’m okay with that.”

* * *

It was late when they finally parted ways and when Steve arrived back at his apartment it was dark save for the soft orange light coming through the window. He looked around at his living space and couldn’t help but let out a snort at the irony of that term. 

It was, for all intents and purposes, a nice apartment. The walls and floor were free of stains, the furniture was nice and clean and the TV and kitchen appliances were all modern and not inexpensive. There were a few photos of family and old friends from Hawkins scattered about the living room and the short hall that led to his bedroom, but overall there were personal touches. 

He thought back to what he and Billy had talked about at the park. Steve knew he wasn’t very attached to this apartment, or his current job, or California in general. 

He’d grown up with the vague idea that after high school he’d escape Hawkins and make his own way in the world without ever actually planning out the details of how he’d do that. After his poor performance in high school and his decision not to go to college, that plan had gotten even murkier and his chances at ever getting out of Hawkins had shrunk to almost nothing. 

When he’d heard Nancy announce that she’d committed to Berkeley and that Jonathan, who was putting off his own college plans to work and save up money first, was going with her, Steve had swallowed his pride and inserted himself into their plans to move west. 

And that was how he’d wound up standing in the middle of his living room, the lights off around him, contemplating if he’d ever even liked this apartment or if he’d just stumbled into it and decided it was good enough.

 

** He’d had no reason for coming to California besides it being the first option he got and he’d had no reason for staying except that he had no idea where else he would go. It wasn’t something he gave much thought to, preferring instead to settle into his routine and pretend he was happy having at least accomplished his long term goal of getting out of Hawkins.**

 

But now.

****

Now, that routine had been interrupted in a way he’d never anticipated. 

****

_ Everything’s different, I’m different...here doesn’t really feel like home _ , Billy had said. Billy, who’d come into Steve’s life and changed everything and now he was thinking…

****

What was he thinking?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is awkward.
> 
> I'll spare you my excuses and simply say that if anyone is still following this story and wants to yell at me, I am now available to be yelled at on tumblr @ vgorodye (a blog that currently has zero ST content btw)

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own, let me know if anything is especially wrong or historically inaccurate 
> 
> The post that inspired this whole thing: https://harringrove000.tumblr.com/post/177595470315/vietnam-warhippie-counterculture-au-billy-a


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